


The Nun of the Ninth

by Saruman



Category: Bleach
Genre: 100 year old crush, Awkwardness, Be alive - smile, Canon-Typical Violence, Fighting, Humor, Inspired by a picture, Kazeshini's a pain in the ass, M/M, Romance, Shuu's a badass fukutaichou, some RenIchi undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saruman/pseuds/Saruman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mashiro wants Kensei, Kensei doesn’t know what he wants (yet) and Shuuhei doesn’t want to be the Nun of the Ninth, but has just as much sex as a nun has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Celibate

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Bleach, which is sad. I don't even really own the idea to this fic, because it's inspired by a picture. You can find the link at the end of the whole thing.

Shuuhei prided himself in the fact that he had been able to keep the Ninth division working under him, even after they all had been betrayed by their trusted captain. Tousen-sama’s betrayal had cut deep into him, into all of them, actually, and more than once Shuuhei had thought about giving up.

 

It had been dark times back then. Shuuhei had trusted his superior, and this trust had made him even blinder than his Captain himself was, if that was even possible. He’d strived to become a powerful Shinigami, someone who was capable of rescuing those who needed to be rescued.

Ever since the day he himself had been saved from a Hollow, back in the days when he still had been nothing but a brat with overactive lachrymal glands, he wanted to be able to do the very same thing the powerful Muguruma Kensei had done for him.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

“Why are you here, recruit?”

 

Shuuhei didn’t even need to think about it when the Academy teacher asked him.

“I will protect those who need protection.”

 

“You will, hu? We’ll see about that.”

 

‘Damn sure you will’, Shuuhei thought, but he didn’t say another word. They _would_ see, they would see what he had seen when Muguruma-sama had saved his life. They would see _awesome_!

Shuuhei hadn’t seen the Ninth division’s captain since the day his purpose in life had changed, but the young man was determined to join his division and serve under him, so he would learn from the best.

 

As soon as he’d gotten the letter of acceptance from the Academy, he had gone out with his friends; they had celebrated all night long, Kanisawa and Aoga being the last ones with him. Deep bonds were forged that night, bonds of friendship and trust, bonds that made all of them promise to give their best, to ace the Academy.

The next morning would show that Shuuhei would need to work hard to be recognized for his improvement rather than his looks; even harder than the other two… The young man woke up with a splitting head ache and a strange, stinging sensation on the skin of his left cheek.

Shuuhei cautiously got up and held his stomach with one hand, his head with the other. While he made his way over to the small mirror that hung over the sink, Shuuhei’s mind was busy with several things at once.

 

‘Stop head from spinning. Now. Prevent stomach from emptying itself on the floor. Nower. And who did I fight with last night for him (or her) to give me a shiner?’

He actually managed to reach the sink without any incidents on the way, and that made him smile a little. He had been worse after a night out, so this day was a promising one. When he finally got a look at himself in the mirror, his eyes widened at what they saw and the spinning and the hurling began all over again. Maybe not that promising a day after all…

Staring at him was his own reflection, his cheek adorned by a mirror-inverted ‘69’ proudly displayed on his face. “Would you look at that,” Shuuhei whispered, his breath fogging up the mirror glass.

His skin was still tender to the touch, the outlines of the tattoo still reddened. But after the initial shock of seeing something that suggestive on his face, Shuuhei calmed down almost instantly. He knew about the meaning of that tattoo, about what – _who_ it represented and he decided he would wear the number with pride.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Over the following years in the Academy, Shuuhei learned what it meant to be a Shinigami. He learned to fight with his sword, how to use shunpo, how the incantations worked so he could fight with kido, too, and he proved to be quite the talented young man. His practical skills made up for his lack in the theoretical aspects of the academical training and he soon had gained a name for himself.

 

And still no sign of Muguruma Kensei.

 

That didn’t prevent Shuuhei from striving for his old goals, though. He still studied hard, trained without pause, sparred against Kanisawa and Aoga, always reaching for new heights. And one day all their work should be rewarded.

They were to supervise a class of rookies on a training trip to the World of the Living, despite still being students themselves. But they had proven their worth, had shown what they were made of, so Aizen-sama, the captain of the Fifth division, had recommended them to lead the training session.

 

It was a disaster, with students dying and Shuuhei once again being saved by others. He had worked so hard, had done anything to get stronger, had pushed himself harder towards his goals, and in the end it had all been for naught.

Aoga and Kanisawa were dead, as were too many of the students they had been supposed to supervise, to help. In the end, Shuuhei had practically killed them, if not by his own hands, then still by not being strong enough to save them. And when he had tried to rescue at least the rest of them, he had failed once again. Without Renji, Kira and Momo there – some of the rookies he had been supposed to protect! –, he’d have been killed just like anybody else.

Sometimes he wished he would have died that day, even now.

 

But fate had decided he’d live another day and the three rookie recruits had saved his ass, until Aizen-sama and Ichimaru Gin had saved the day.

 

 

Even though most of the students had been rescued and Captain Aizen had even praised Shuuhei for having saved as many of the younger Shinigami as he had, the words felt like lies.

“Many lives were protected today, Hisagi-kun. You did a good job.”

 

Shuuhei nodded, blood still seeping down his face from the three deep cuts he had gained in the fight, where a Hollow had nearly scraped his right eyeball out. But inside his head, none of Aizen-taichou’s words reached him. All he could think was of all the lives he _hadn’t_ been able to protect.

 

 

Back in Soul Society Tousen-taichou had awaited the return of Aizen, Ichimaru, Shuuhei and the three rookies who had stayed behind. A few words were exchanged between Aizen-taichou and the dark skinned Shinigami before the man turned to Shuuhei, motioning for the injured man to follow him.

Of course Shuuhei had heard of the blind Captain of the Ninth division. Students wondered how it was possible for a blind man to become powerful enough to be a captain while trained Shinigami marveled about his keen senses – Tousen Kaname was said to be the most skillful Shinigami when it came to sensing other beings, be they human, Hollow or Shinigami.

 

Right now he was almost frightening in his silence, slowly walking in front of Shuuhei, every single one of his steps sure and unfaltering. He led the student to a silent hill in Seireitei, where he stopped under a tall tree. The sun was rising in the East, the first rays enlightening the dark night sky above them.

 

“Isn’t it beautiful,” he suddenly asked, facing the slowly rising sun. Shuuhei felt uncomfortable, not knowing what to say to that, so he remained silent and fidgeted in his insecurity. “I can feel the sun on my skin, Hisagi-kun, even without having to see it. Can’t you?”

 

“Yes, I can, Tousen-taichou.” What else was there to say? He really couldn’t, not this early in the morning, and even less so since his nerves still had to calm down from the loss of his friends, from the failed mission. He felt miserable and as far away from the sun as was possible.

 

“No, you can’t, Hisagi-kun. But you will, when the time comes. Not only can I feel the sun, I can feel that you’re upset, too. And it’s not surprising, knowing what happened tonight.” Eventually Tousen turned around to Shuuhei and his bandaged eyes came to rest on the younger man. “Sit down with me, Hisagi-kun.”

 

Both men sank into the damp grass beneath their feet, sitting under the tree in silence. Shuuhei used the time to think about where he had failed to have his friends killed, what he could have done better, and what he needed to do to finally become strong enough to save people instead of dooming them to their death.

And why couldn’t he find Muguruma-sama? He knew he wasn’t a captain anymore, Tousen-taichou held that title by now, but what had happened to Muguruma?

 

“Hisagi-kun, listen to me. I know you suffered a great loss tonight, and nothing I can say will lessen the pain. But I need you to know this wasn’t your fault.”

 

“How wasn’t this my fault, Tousen-taichou?” Shuuhei didn’t really expect an answer to that, but he didn’t want to hear more bad excuses for his failure, either. “I wasn’t strong enough. I was scared of the Hollows, was scared out of my mind and couldn’t operate like I should have. In the end it cost a lot of people’s lives, because I was too scared to do what had to be done.”

 

“And once again, this wasn’t your fault,” Tousen interrupted Shuuhei’s self accusations. “Being strong doesn’t mean not to be afraid, not to be scared. It means to overcome his fears and face them head on. Those who do not know fear are not qualified to fight.”

 

Shuuhei’s eyes widened at that and he stared at his superior. “I… I don’t think I understand…”

 

“You will, once the time comes. Up until then I want you to join my division. I know you failed the exams, but I see much potential in you, Hisagi-kun. You will learn to face your fear and use it to your advantage.”

 

 

Shuuhei had taken Tousen up on his offer and had joined the Ninth division, just like he had planned years ago. He didn’t serve under Muguruma-sama, but it was as close as he would get to it.

He learned to trust Tousen-taichou, learned to learn from the blind man, and soon found himself absorbing the man’s knowledge and ideals. But every day he found himself in bed, thinking back all those years, to when a creepily smiling man told him words that echoed in his head even now.

“You’re alive, be happy! Smile!”

 

Until, one day, this trust was thrown in his face, and Shuuhei found himself doubting himself once again. Where had he failed this time, what could he have done better to not make his Captain turn his back on him, on Soul Society?

 

 

Tousen-taichou’s betrayal was the horribly failed mission in his Academy days, all over again; only this time, the pain was multiplied. Shuuhei was alive, but he didn’t smile anymore.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

The days, weeks, and finally months of the Winter War hardened Shuuhei. He had a division to keep running, even without their captain to guide them, and on top of that he still worked as the chief editor of the _Seireitei Communication_ magazine. It ate away on both his free time and his energy reserves, but that was exactly what he needed. Or so he thought.

When one fell asleep as soon as their head hit the cushions, they couldn’t think too much about things they didn’t want to think about. So Shuuhei edited, Shuuhei led the Ninth division, Shuuhei trained and sparred and fought. And nothing else, not even think about the man who had made him becoming a Shinigami in the first place.

 

There was no place for childish wishes and naïve dreams in the new Shuuhei’s life anymore.

 

 

Until the war reached a new level and the Gotei 13 found themselves fighting in the replica of Karakura town.

The Arrancar and Espada they had to fight were formidable opponents, strong, skilled and equipped with terrifying abilities. Despite disliking his Shikai’s form – and his Zanpakutou’s spirit in general – Shuuhei found himself forced to use Kazeshini’s released form more often than not.

A new low was reached for him when he had to kill his former Captain. Seeing the noble man being reduced to what he had become had torn at Shuuhei, old wounds had been touched and scarred memories had started to bleed again.

 

Never before had it been as hard as this time, but his voice didn’t falter when he whispered “Reap, Kazeshini” and the double edged scythe had slaughtered Tousen Kaname.

And for the first time since they fought together rather than against each other, Kazeshini hadn’t screamed in triumph when his blades cut through one of his Shinigami’s opponents. He felt Shuuhei’s agony and shared it.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

When Shuuhei came back to, he found himself in the Fourth division’s barracks, lying on a stretcher in one of the many rooms in the infirmary. His whole body hurt and he could still feel where Tousen had impaled him, but the dullness in his stomach told him he had already been healed.

He turned his head to the side and realized he wasn’t the only one lying in this room; there was another bed in the room, being occupied by a man with an impressive build. The blankets were fixed by two muscular arms lying on top of them and stretched over a broad chest, but that was all Shuuhei was able to see from this angle.

 

When he tried to move a blaring alarm cut through the formerly quiet room and not a second later the door shot open, revealing Kotetsu Isane. “You’re not to move until Unohana-taichou has examined you!”, she bellowed, pushing Shuuhei back onto the mattress. “You suffered a severe injury, Hisagi-fukutaichou.”

 

As if he needed to be reminded of that! Of course he hadn’t forgotten about how his former Captain had pierced him with his sword, how he hadn’t only been betrayed by words and actions against Soul Society, but a physical attack against himself, too. Isane didn’t need to hold him down any longer; all of Shuuhei’s strength left him with a heavy sigh and he sank even deeper into the mattress.

 

Isane watched him worriedly, but didn’t say anything when she turned around and left the room again, searching for Unohana-taichou.

Not moving an inch, Shuuhei stared up at the ceiling and reminisced about how far he had come to be forced to kill his superior, even though he had changed sides. A humorless chuckle fought to get out, but was stuck in his throat, making it come out like he was suffocating.

 

 

“Come on, man, you’re alive, be happy! Smile!”

 

‘What a strange time to remember those words!’ Shuuhei was losing it, and he could actually feel his sanity slowly fading away. It had some twisted irony to it. First he’d thought he’d seen Muguruma Kensei on the battlefield, now he heard the same words he had said to cheer him up. It was a sad way to go nuts, even more so for someone who had tried to become the man who now was eating away at his sanity.

 

“That isn’t exactly smiling, you kn-“ The words had gotten louder as the other occupant of the room had turned his head to Shuuhei, but his words stopped as soon as the man was able to see the injured lieutenant. “What’s that number on your face?!”

 

Shuuhei, who had closed his eyes to fully concentrate on observing his sanity slip from his grip, let a grin crawl over his face. It looked like a grimace, twisted and bitter. “It’s a reminder of what I once wanted to become.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now it’s just a stupid joke for my friends and the reason for way too many indecent proposals.” He didn’t bother to open his eyes. Let that strange person with the strangely familiar voice judge him unseen, it didn’t matter. What mattered was to either lose his sanity for good or recover fast enough to save what was left of his division.

 

A grunt answered his words and then there was blissful silence again. Until: “You know, it really isn’t a joke, and indecent even less, once you know about where the number comes from.”

 

That had Shuuhei peek one eye open and he got a blurry picture of the man lying with him in the room. A blob of silver hair, sharp facial features and still the impressive build, but nothing more than that. Not with one eye and still high on pain meds.

“How’d you know?” the lieutenant asked nonetheless. Maybe talking could help him get back to his senses and back to his division as well. And there still was a magazine to edit…

 

“Why do you have it, kid?” the other man asked instead, his voice tingling pleasantly in Shuuhei’s subconscious, but not ringing any bells in the fuzzy fog that had embraced his brain.

 

“Back when I was still a kid, there was someone who saved my life. I had been attacked by a Hollow out in the outskirts of Rukongai and there was this guy. My friends had been killed, but before that monster could kill me as well, he interfered and totally crushed it. It was amazing – _he_ was amazing! And I knew then and there that I would become a Shinigami. That I would save people, too.

“That guy had a tattoo on his chest, a 69. That’s why I have it, too.”

Telling someone about what had happened over 100 years ago felt liberating, as if a weight had been taken from his chest. No one had seen what had happened back then, other than Muguruma-sama and himself, everyone else was dead. Well, who wasn’t nowadays? Even Muguruma-sama had disappeared all those years ago.

 

Just as the other man was about to reply the door opened again and Unohana Retsu entered the room. “You’re awake, I see.”

Shuuhei turned to the door and finally managed to open both eyes. His sight was still somewhat blurred, but the telltale braid and the calm voice were dead giveaways to who had come to see them. “Good to have you back, Hisagi-fukutaichou,” she added, then turned to the other bed. “And I’m glad you are with us again, too, Muguruma-san.”

 

Shuuhei heard the words, heard the name, but couldn’t quite grasp what they meant. When the soothingly familiar voice from his childhood answered the Fourth division’s Captain, all the pieces came together and Shuuhei paled.

That was Muguruma Kensei in the bed next to him. The man who was like a god to him – divine and unreachable –, the man he owed his life to, the man who he wanted to become.

His blood, just having abandoned his brain, flooded back with a vengeance and Shuuhei blushed furiously. He couldn’t believe what just had happened. For over a hundred years he wanted nothing more than seeing his idol once again; now he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

 

“Hisagi-fukutaichou, are you-“ Shuuhei never heard the rest of the question.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

“Poor guy! He’s lost more blood than we initially thought.”

 

The voice was strangely muffled, as if he were padded in wool. When he tried to move he felt shifting wetness around him, then a crack of light opened up and he sank out of his sanctum. Lying in a puddle of sticky goo, he looked up to see Unohana-taichou’s Zanpakutou Minazuki in its released state. The manta-ray looked down at him with his single eye and seemed to smile before turning into gas to return into its sheath.

Now it was Unohana-taichou’s face hovering over him and nudging him with probing fingers. The wounds that had covered his body the first time he had come to had vanished now, being nothing more than unpleasant memories and scars after his stay in the healing manta-ray.

 

“Welcome back, Hisagi-fukutaichou,” the polite woman greeted him with a smile, helping him up from where he lay on the floor. Panicked eyes searched the room for a second, but Unohana calmed him down. “We’re alone.”

 

“Thank you, Unohana-taichou,” Shuuhei said with a shy smile. It was hard to feel embarrassed in the presence of Unohana Retsu; she’d seen nearly every single Shinigami in the ranks of the Gotei 13, had seen them bleed, cry and yell, sometimes at the same time. She wasn’t a person to judge others, she healed both their bodies, and their souls.

 

She smiled at him again, then motioned him over to the bed he had fallen out who knew how long ago. “Do you feel better now?” Shuuhei nodded. “Had I known you would react that way to the information on who your bed neighbor was, I wouldn’t have put you two in the same room. We just thought it seemed like too good an opportunity to pass it up.”

 

Shuuhei looked up at that. “So I wasn’t hallucinating? It really was him?” He didn’t dare hope…

 

“Yes, it was the one and only Muguruma Kensei, former Captain of the Ninth division and the man with the infamous tattoo on his chest. Though, by now, it’s _you_ who’s famous for that tattoo rather than him.” The lieutenant sitting on the mattress could only stare at her. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re back with us. You are free to go now, I’m sure there are reports to be written.”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Shuuhei didn’t return to the Ninth’ barracks just yet, he didn’t feel like filing reports and doing paperwork. Actually, he didn’t know how he felt, but his plans didn’t include anything division related right now.

Muguruma Kensei was alive. He was alive! And not only was he alive, he was in Seireitei, too! Somewhere in the labyrinthine streets of Seireitei, the one and only Muguruma Kensei was, doing whatever childhood heroes were supposed to do, and Shuuhei didn’t know what to do with himself.

Should he look for the other man? Search him and talk to him, even after the embarrassing scene he just had pulled? Maybe it was better to lay low and hide somewhere…

Just as he took the next turn to the right to return to his quarters, his gait came to a sudden halt. He stumbled against the broad expanse of a back simply standing there, while the man the back belonged to was talking to someone in front of him.

Out of all people Shuuhei could literally run into, it just _had_ to be Muguruma-sama…

 

 

“Hey there, Hisagi-fukutaichou, right?” Muguruma-sama asked as he turned around. “So you’re up and about again.”

 

 “Yes, I was just released from the infirmary, Muguruma-sama,” Shuuhei answered in the most military tone of voice he could manage. He almost had to grab his own hand so he wouldn’t salute.

 

“Why so stiff, Hisagi?”

 

“Wait, Kensei… Isn’t that your tattoo on his cheek?!” Only now did Shuuhei see who Muguruma-sama had been talking to. A young woman with green hair, huge eyes and a skin tight body suit was standing there, ogling his face. “Are you related or something?”

 

“No, we aren’t.” Shuuhei kept his clipped tone; everything to get out of this with as much of his pride intact as possible.

 

“Oh, I thought you were… You seem… familiar. Have I seen you before?”

 

Probably not, but Shuuhei wouldn’t answer her. He just wanted to get away, when-

 

“Actually, you have. Mashiro, this is Hisagi Shuuhei, the Ninth division’s fukutaichou and the kid I saved from the Hollow over a hundred years ago while you were doing practically nothing.”

 

“And you still remember him, his name and all?” That Mashiro person sounded doubtful.

 

“Ehrm, no, but Hisagi-san was so kind and told me about it when we were in the infirmary.” That sounded suspiciously like Muguruma-sama was bragging…

 

That was more than Shuuhei could take. He turned away from the two, mumbled his apologies about how he had business to attend to and shunpo’ed away. It didn’t matter where he went, as long as it was somewhere else.

 

 

Only moments later Shuuhei reached the fukutaichou office and threw the door shut behind him. Who was that skin tight clad girl and had she really been there when Muguruma-sama had saved his life? Did it even matter? He couldn’t talk to the man ever again; the last hours had shown that he wasn’t capable of _not_ seeming like an idiot in the older man’s presence. He didn’t need a green haired grasshopper to add insult to injury.

 

Too bad, really. There were a thousand things Shuuhei would’ve loved to ask the former captain of his division. He felt like he had spent his entire life with Muguruma-sama, he had dreamt about him more often than not, had heard his voice when he fell asleep, had seen his (admittedly somewhat creepy) smile when he awoke, had strived to one day be like his hero had been.

And now that he knew that Muguruma Kensei, his hero, his dream, his idol was alive and _here_ , he couldn’t go see him.

 

Shuuhei couldn’t help but feel like it was Karma’s way of punishing him for having killed his former captain. As if his own conscience wasn’t punishment enough.

“ _You’re alive, be happy! Smile!_ ” Kazeshini’s voice cut through his musing, but the Zanpakutou’s voice lacked the usual biting sarcasm.

 

“Would you just shut up?”

 

“I will do nothing of the sorts, Hisagi-fukutaichou.” Shuuhei whipped around at the sound of the gravelly voice and came face to face with Yamamoto-soutaichou standing in the doorway to his office. “You are to follow me to the meeting room where I will discuss the future of the Ninth division.”

 

Shuuhei didn’t miss the carefully chosen words ‘ **I** will discuss’ and ‘future of the Ninth division’. Not once had his name been mentioned in those plans, and his heart sank at the prospect of losing the last thing that tied him to his life as a Shinigami – his division. _His_ division. He would fight for it, tooth and nails if the need be.

 

“Yes, Yamamoto-soutaichou.”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

 

Never before had the hall felt as huge as it did right now, with only three men standing inside it. Yamamoto-soutaichou was standing in his usual spot, his lieutenant next to him, and Shuuhei shifted nervously in front of the powerful man, awaiting the ‘discussion’.

He didn’t dare turn around when the gigantic double wing door behind him opened and two sets of footsteps entered.

 

“There you are. Please come closer.” Two pairs of feet neared and came to a halt next to Shuuhei, revealing their owner’s identities: That Mashiro girl stood on Shuuhei’s left side, Muguruma-sama next to her. Of course! She had been Muguruma-sama’s lieutenant back when he had led the Ninth division!

Shuuhei’s heart sank.

 

“As you all are aware, the Gotei 13 are in a desolate state. Too many lives were lost in the war and too many divisions are left without a Captain. We need to regain our strength now more than ever; who knows what schemes the traitor Aizen Sosuke still has left, how many traps were set up for us. That is why I summoned you here.” The old man looked down on them, his eyes hardly open, his beard and eyebrows long and white, but there was no mistaking the power emanating from him.

“Ever since Aizen Sosuke, Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname betrayed Soul Society, Hisagi Shuuhei has been in charge of the Ninth division. While he managed to keep the division working, he still isn’t fit to be a captain, not without having achieved Bankai. We can no longer tolerate the actual situation.”

 

Shuuhei looked up at that, staring the old man straight in the eyes. “I may not have achieved Bankai yet, but I did a great job with the division! The men and women depend on me, they know what they have in me and they respect me!”

He was about to say more, but a sudden flare of Yamamoto’s reiatsu put him back in place. “Silence!”

 

The lieutenant visibly fell together, shoulders slumping and his head lowering. “Excuse me, Yamamoto-soutaichou.” There was no sense in defying the Captain of the First division.

 

“So, Muguruma Kensei, former captain of the Ninth division, you have proven your loyalty to the Gotei 13 in the Winter War. I am willing to offer you the position as the Captain of the Ninth division once again. You would be a great asset to the Gotei 13’s troops. At the same time I offer you, Kuna Mashiro, former lieutenant of the Ninth division, your old rank.”

 

That had Shuuhei act up once again. “You cannot remove me from my rank! The Ninth is my division! I worked hard for my division, I know the men and women, they need me! I won’t stand for this… _gambling_!”

 

“I told you to keep your mouth shut, Hisagi Shuuhei!” No one in the room missed the missing title at the end of Shuuhei’s name.

The young Shinigami’s eyes widened at the blatant insult and he was about to shout at the old geezer for destroying him, destroying what he had built up so painfully after their former captain had left them in broken pieces.

 

“He has a point, Yamamoto,” the newly reinstated Captain interjected. “The division was shattered back when my ‘successor’ turned out to be a corrupted idiot and Hisagi here managed to pull them back together, probably even tighter than before! Erasing him from the equation would lead to possible mutiny and that’s not what you want right now.”

 

The Captain commander raised one of his impressive eyebrows at that, even going as far as to open an eye. “What do you suggest then, Muguruma-taichou? Make him the third seat?”

 

Shuuhei felt like he wasn’t even there – he was a grown up man, had just fought a war for Soul Society, and yet here they were, talking above his head, deciding what to do with him as if he were some old stuffed animal; too worn out to be displayed on the shelves, but too loved by the children to be dumped.

 

“Not at all! I’m thinking about keeping him right where he is.” Muguruma-taichou was gesturing with his hand. “You said it yourself: Hisagi-fukutaichou did a terrific job keeping the Ninth division together, the men and women look up to him as if he were the Ninth’s captain. And he would be, had he achieved his Bankai by now. Hell, he should be, even without having achieved it! You let Zaraki Kenpachi be a Captain, then why can’t Hisagi-fukutaichou?”

 

“Zaraki- _taichou_ ,” the old man emphasized, “gained his rank by killing the former Captain of the Eleventh division with two-hundred Shinigami witnessing it.”

 

“And what did Hisagi- _fukutaichou_ do just the other day? Didn’t he kill the Captain of the Ninth division?”

 

“He killed a traitor!”

 

“Nitpicking! Details!” Muguruma-taichou had gotten louder by the second and was full out screaming by now. “He killed the former Captain of the Ninth division, killed him after he had become even stronger than he was before, and still you won’t acknowledge him. If that’s the way you want to be, so be it, but I will take him as my lieutenant, if he still agrees with it after everything he had to witness here.”

 

Shuuhei couldn’t quite believe his ears, nor did he trust his mouth not to say anything stupid. Not only was he prone to do that around Muguruma-taichou, now he was angered on top of that, so he opted to simply nod at the Visored standing beside the green haired woman who had stayed surprisingly quiet the whole time.

“So I’ll be the third seat, right?” she asked now, turning to Muguruma-taichou with big, doe like eyes. “You wouldn’t leave me behind, just because we had an argument or two, right?”

 

The silver haired man’s eyes softened visibly and a small smile played over his lips. “Of course, Mashiro, what would I do without you? It’d be way too boring around here without you grating on my nerves.”

 

Whatever that meant Shuuhei didn’t know. He knew he didn’t particularly like Mashiro, though.

A harrumphing sound cut through the air and three pairs of eyes shot forward to Yamamoto-soutaichou again. “I think we came to a conclusion. Starting now, Muguruma Kensei is reinstated as the Captain of the Ninth division with Kuna Mashiro being the Ninth’s third seat. Hisagi Shuuhei-fukutaichou still is the Ninth division’s lieutenant and in charge of all the tasks this rank brings with it. You are dismissed.”

 

Shuuhei all but fled the huge room. It took all he had not to shunpo his way out of there, so he opted for a fast walk/almost run down the corridor. He needed air. And time. And several miles between him and this place. And him and Muguruma Kensei.

“ _Coward!_ ” Kazeshini chided in his head. “ _What happened to ‘face your fear’ and ‘fearing the opponent makes you a true warrior’ and all that?_ ”

 

“Shut up, Kazeshini! I’m trying to face a fear here!”

 

“And what fear would that be?” Why was it every time Shuuhei was running from Muguruma-taichou he was running _into_ him? “Uff!”

 

“I’m sorry, Muguruma-taichou, I didn’t see you there…” Shuuhei fought to get back on his feet with as much grace as possible. A fruitless undertaking in the presence of the very man that made his nights as well as his daydreams maybe more entertaining, but all the more risky as well.

 

“Shuuhei was it, right?”

 

“It’s Hisagi-fukutaichou, Muguruma-taichou.”

 

“Yeah, Shuuhei, okay.” What was it with people ignoring what he had to say today? And Kazeshini was giving him a piece of his mind as well. When the young woman behind Muguruma-taichou decided she needed to have her opinion known as well, it all became too much for Shuuhei to bear.

 

“Would you all. Please. Shut. UP!?!” His voice echoed in the long, bare hallway, soon gaining a strange, hollow quality to it. But at least it worked, everyone around him shut their mouth. “Thank you. So, if you would please excuse me now? I have paperwork to do and things to prepare.”

Shuuhei didn’t wait for anyone to come out of their confusion. Instead he shunpo’ed the hell out of there; he _had_ to prepare the office and the paperwork for the new old captain, after all.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Back in the corridor Shuuhei had just left in a huff, Kensei and Mashiro looked at each other, similar looks of surprise on their faces. “You sure it was a good idea to keep him?” Mashiro’s voice was anything but sympathetic.

 

“I _know_ it was a good idea, Mashiro,” Kensei insisted, turning to follow the corridor out to the busy life of Seireitei. “He really worked wonders on the division; he’s cut out to be a high ranking officer and what I said back there is true: He really IS Captain material. As soon as he’s reached Bankai, he will be getting prepared to become a captain. You know I like you, Mashiro, but you’re not meant to be neither a Captain, nor a lieutenant, are you? Don’t get me wrong, you are as strong as they come and a powerful ally, but you are childish in your manners and you lack in the ‘commanding people’ department as well.”

 

Mashiro looked at him with something akin to disappointment in her eyes, but it soon changed into her usual tantrum gleam. “I’m sure I could have learned it! You should try to teach it rather than only pray it!”

 

One pierced eyebrow rose, the other one following soon after. “Mashiro, please. Are you serious?”

 

A pout was all the answer he needed before Kensei finally stepped out of the imposing building of the First division and into the sunshine. His feet led him towards the Ninth division’s barracks where he expected to get his Captain’s haori as well as an introduction into how the division worked nowadays.

Maybe Shuuhei tended to act a little strange sometimes, but he was a capable lieutenant, and Kensei wouldn’t underestimate him.

 

“He’s still a child, though…” his former lieutenant mumbled sulkily and followed the captain towards the Ninth division. “Probably still wet behind the ears.”

 

“You do realize in some languages it is ‘to be green behind the ears’, right? Tell me what hair color did you have now?”

 

“Screw you, old perv!”

 

“That’s Oldperv-taichou to you, Kuna-san.” Kensei ducked the punch aimed at the back of his head and continued on, whistling a random tune he had heard in the world of the living. Things finally seemed to turn out right. With Soul Society being thrown into chaos obsolete prejudices were reassessed and the Visored had the chance to show the world why they had become what they were now. With Aizen’s treason being revealed and Urahara’s, Yoruichi’s and Tessai’s roles being explained, they finally got the chance to reclaim their positions within the Gotei 13’s ranks. He was pretty sure at least some of the other Visored had had similar talks with the old man about what they were to do in the Soul Society.

He’d make sure to call a Captain’s meeting soon, so they would get to know each other. He was curious as to what had changed in the Gotei 13, with Aizen’s betrayal. Or betrayals, rather. Hollowfication, having his victims banned from Soul Society, playing both Yamamoto-soutaichou and the Central 46, all the death and despair he had brought down on them – and yet the Gotei 13 was alive and kicking.

 

And Kensei was a part of it again. Finally. And if it meant to have Mashiro clinging to him again, he would happily live through it if it meant to have a purpose again.

Having Shuuhei praising him to the skies wasn’t too bad either; it helped that he wasn’t bad on the eyes, too.

 

“You’re drooling, perv. I hope it’s me on your mind!” Mashiro cooed.

 

 

Shinji crossing his path made answering unnecessary and Kensei jumped the opportunity, throwing his arm around the blond man and dragging him away with him, talking animatedly about what just had happened with Yamamoto-soutaichou. The lack of surprise on Shinji’s part confirmed Kensei’s earlier theory about the other Visored’s being reinstated in the Shinigami ranks, and both men found a lot to talk about, even after a hundred years spent together in exile.

 

They left Mashiro behind, none of them noticing the darkening cloud hanging above her head. The earlier childish pout was missing on her face; replaced by a look of determination and anger. Not cut out to be leading people, he had said. She’d show him what happened when she was to command people!

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Shuuhei leapt up from his crouched position in front of his desk where he had been fighting against the stubborn drawer he kept his weekly reports in. He had known there was a new captain to come at one point, so he had written detailed reports on how he was working with the division and what changes he had made, the rosters, the training plans and everything.

“Muguruma-taichou, I didn’t expect you this early.”

 

In hindsight, Shuuhei really had to congratulate himself on bringing the sentence out without stumbling over the syllables. Muguruma-taichou stood in the door to his office, wearing the standard Shinigami uniform sans sleeves and a sleeveless Captain’s haori, proudly displaying the Ninth division’s insignia on the back. His skin glowed in the early morning light, highlighting his muscled build, and his piercings reflected the light of the lamps above.

Gotei 13 captains weren’t supposed to look like this, were they? They should be as aristocratic as Kuchiki Byakuya, as reserved as Hitsugaya Toshiro or as calm as Ukitake Jyuushiro. Even the flamboyant air of Kyouraku Shunsui had something awe-inspiring about him. But Muguruma-taichou only made Shuuhei drool inwardly. In awe, though.

On the other hand, he wasn’t in any condition to fight his sexy ‘opponent’ like this, so maybe it actually was some sort of twisted strategy…

 

“I said I’m sure there’s a lot to catch up on,” Muguruma-taichou said in a tone that indicated it hadn’t been the first time he had said those words.

 

“Oh, yes, sorry. Actually, there is, right there in the top drawer. Sheets. With words on them. Plans.”

“ _Way to go, warrior!_ ” Kazeshini so wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed words and grammar, and fast.

“I… I wrote reports. On what I did. My way with the division.”

 

“Then let’s have a look at’em!” The muscular man rounded the desk and came to stand next to Shuuhei, his overwhelming presence surrounding him. The younger Shinigami crouched down and began to fiddle with the drawer once again, his fingers trembling with excitement. Excitement soon gave way to agitation, than to embarrassment. What was it with that stupid drawer?

 

His captain stood next to him and didn’t even raise an eyebrow. He simply waited for him to either win his fight against the furniture or give up. Like hell would he give up! Shuuhei was proud of his reports, was proud of having come up with them in the first place. When he had mentioned them in one of the lieutenants’ meetings everyone was pretty impressed with the idea and some decided they’d give it a try as well.

Kira and Momo in particular, but even Renji had been willing to give it a try. “To give Kuchiki-taichou and idea of what I’m doin’ with the guys. Can’t all be drinkin’ tea all day long!”

Rangiku hadn’t been too enthusiastic, unsurprisingly…

 

And now those blasted reports were out of reach, hidden in a stupid drawer in a stupid desk.

“I’m sorry, Muguruma-taichou. It seems you need to wait for those repo-“ And before he had the chance to finish his sentence his superior had gripped the handle of the drawer and pulled it out of its slide rails.

 

“There we go. Are these the reports?” And together they went through months’ worth of reports, discussing possible improvements and ways to continue the work in the future.

The older Shinigami complimented Shuuhei more than once on his way of organizing the division and how he had handled the difficult situation without breaking under the responsibility weighing down on his shoulders.

 

 

When the door bust open none of the men looked up to see who had come in without even bothering to knock. Shuuhei had an idea, though. The grating voice disturbing the busy silence in the room proved him right.

“Kensei, what are you doing huddled together in here with the kid?”

 

“That’s Hisagi-fukutaichou to you, Mashiro! He’s a superior officer and you are to address him accordingly!” Captain Muguruma seemed really upset with the grasshopper girl sitting on Shuuhei’s desk, but she was unfazed.

 

“Whatever. So, what are you doing with him then?”

 

“Work. He’s doing the job you were supposed to do back then, so you could at least start doing your job now! Go out, gather the division in the sparring hall, we need to introduce ourselves!”

 

A poisonous glare later the Kuna girl was gone, slamming the door shut behind her. Shuuhei sensed trouble in paradise, but he wouldn’t say a thing. It wasn’t his place to fiddle with his superior’s relationship, no matter how much he wanted to. That his superior happened to be his longtime crush didn’t make things easier, though. And over one-hundred years of crushing sure qualified as a longtime crush, right?

Smile, Shuuhei, you’re alive…

 

When the other man kindly suggested to actually get going to the meeting with the division, Shuuhei had once again to be told twice before the words reached his brain.

As cute as it was to have a crush on someone from his past, it shouldn’t be affecting his work. And right now it was affecting how he functioned, and that had to change. Now.

When they entered the hall where the Ninth’s members were assembled, Mashiro immediately threw herself at the new Captain, dragging him onto the stage with her where she seemed to try and merge with him, she pushed herself that close in her Shinigami uniform. She needed to stop that. Nower.

Because it would lead to the men and women talking among themselves, of course. It had nothing to do with Shuuhei being jealous or anything…

 

Shuuhei grumbled under his breath and stepped onto the small podium as well, his arrival silencing the crowd immediately. Not even the Captain’s haori adorning Muguruma-taichou’s body had had that effect.

 

“Friends, comrades, proud Shinigami of the Ninth division, please calm down,” Shuuhei began, even though the audience had been silent from the start. “We all know about our situation. Without a captain to represent us in the Captains’ meetings, without a captain to stand up for us when decisions were made, we were ignored.”

 

“We had you, Hisagi-fukutaichou!” someone yelled from within the masses of black and white, and Shuuhei smiled at that.

 

“Yes, you did, but we need more than that. More than I can give, we need a captain worthy of the title!” He ignored the yelled comments now, on how he should be their captain. They all knew the reason why he wasn’t captain yet, and they understood them as well as he did. That didn’t mean they liked them. “Friends, we are no longer without a captain. I give you Muguruma Kensei, I give you Muguruma-taichou, Captain of the Ninth division!”

 

The crowd cheered and yelled, welcoming their new captain, some even recognized him from back when he had been captain of the division for the first time. Some of the newer members looked less convinced, though, and Shuuhei could understand them, too.

They had joined the division’s ranks when he had been the one to lead the Ninth, captain in all but title and haori. They saw him as their superior, as the one to turn to and to follow his orders, but in a military organization he couldn’t let those feelings get in the way of the chain of command.

 

Shuuhei turned to face the direction where most of the younger Shinigami were standing and once again motioned for the crowd to calm down. Immediately the noise stopped and Mashiro could be heard snorting behind him. “Puppeteer…”

The silver haired man standing next to her on the small stage hit her over the back of her head without moving a muscle in his face.

 

Ignoring the almost playful banter between the two people next to him Shuuhei addressed his audience. “You all know me, and you know I wouldn’t let any Tom, Dick or Harry butt into our business. But this man is different! I owe him my life, he made me the man I am today.”

Turning his head to the impressive man, he motioned for him to reveal his chest. The older Shinigami looked surprised and a little bewildered, but he opened his shihakusho a little further to reveal the tattoo adorning his chest. A black 69, clearly visible for all Shinigami in the room, and testament to the man’s loyalty and dedication to the Ninth division.

At the same time Shuuhei looked back at the gathered men and women, and he knew their eyes were switching between the number on their new captain’s chest and their lieutenant’s face. It was silent, eerily so, and one could almost hear the small wheels turning.

 

Then: “It’s the same!” And that was all they needed. Muguruma-taichou had become one of them, simply by having copied their fukutaichou’s tattoo. Little did they know about the true history behind the ink, but that didn’t matter right now; it was about breaking the ice, and the hollering and cheering hinted at a successful initiation.

 

Seeing his hero amongst the people he considered his family made Shuuhei happier than he had felt in a long time, and not even the sour expression on Mashiro’s face could make the happiness go away. She’d have to introduce herself later, he didn’t care.

Shuuhei was alive, he was happy. He smiled.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

“Shuuhei!” The yell sounded through the corridors of the division’s barracks, echoing from wall to wall. Shuuhei jumped up from his desk and sped through the hall separating his from his captain’s office.

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou?”

 

“It’s Kensei, Shuuhei.”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou.”

 

“You know I could order you to call me Kensei, right?”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou.”

 

The older man shook his head and a defeated sigh left his gleaming lips. Now that Shuuhei thought about it (and he thought about it quite often) they really looked gleaming. Wet, almost. He knew Kuna had been here until a few moments ago, Shuuhei had seen her leave the building with a pout on her lips, and now he was pretty sure they had been in here, kissing until Kensei had remembered they were supposed to do work; Shuuhei made sure to remind him of that every now and then.

 

It was an open secret to anyone in the Ninth division that Kuna Mashiro hated Hisagi Shuuhei just as much as she loved Muguruma Kensei. Everyone could see how much she tried to impress the new (old) Captain, how she flitted around him, showing off her female assets and fluttering her eyelashes at him. And whenever Muguruma-taichou wasn’t around, she made sure to let Shuuhei know how little she thought of his strength and him in general.

 

“Your puppy eyes won’t help you, kid, Kensei’s in another league!” was only one of the things she would spat at Shuuhei when Muguruma-taichou was busy somewhere else.

His favorite so far was “My mask will crush your stupid face!”, but he was sure she’d come up with more soon. Shuuhei didn’t know what he had done to her, though, except for being Muguruma-sama’s vice-captain, but he wouldn’t budge just so she could attach herself to the captain’s (muscular) arm more often than she already did.

Shuuhei had a responsibility to his division, and they still were _his_ men, so he wouldn’t let them down. And, to be honest, he enjoyed working with Muguruma-taichou very much; probably more than he should, the man was in a relationship after all, but that didn’t stop Shuuhei from pining from afar.

 

 

“Shuuhei, are you listening to me?”

 

“Of course, Muguruma-taichou.” He hadn’t heard a single word. But something told Shuuhei his superior knew about that and didn’t care. He’d repeat his orders and everything would be fine, Shuuhei would do what was asked of him and Kensei would be proud.

Just as proud as Shuuhei felt whenever he felt adventurous enough to call his Captain by his given name, at least in his own mind, far away from anyone who could hear.

“ _Aside from me, warrior._ ” It was way too easy to forget about the nag sharing his thoughts.

“ _Come on, don’t be like that! You know you need me. I’m you, for fuck’s sake!_ ”

That didn’t mean Shuuhei had to like his Zanpakutou’s personality…

 

“You still aren’t listening to me, are you, Shuuhei?”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou.” When the last question registered, Shuuhei blushed a deep crimson and finally looked up. “Forgive me, Muguruma-taichou…”

 

Muguruma-sama stood in front of him, unmoving, his face a mask of seriousness. Until a chuckle broke out of his chest and he fell back into his seat, now laughing out loud and even hitting his thigh in his amusement. “Oh, you’re priceless, Shuuhei!” He wiped tears from his eyes and gulped down large intakes of breath before he finally calmed down again.

“Now, where were we?” Some shuffling with papers on the desk, then, “Ah yes, patrols. I want you to put a team together. We’ll be patrolling through the outskirts of Rukongai. Make sure you gather talented men and women as well as new recruits, I need to know the wingspread of abilities amongst our ranks.”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou. I will do so immediately.” Patrolling with Muguruma-sama, now that was something to look forward to! Shuuhei didn’t expect all that many incidents, things had calmed down considerably since the Winter War was over, but even spending time with the man he owed his life would make the trip exciting. And painfully straining on his composure, his self-discipline and his libido…

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Patrols with Muguruma-taichou proved to be quite strenuous, on more than just the celibate-ish way Shuuhei lived his life.

The constant closeness to the powerful Visored made his senses tingling, he was surrounded by the twisted mix of Hollow and Shinigami reiatsu all the time and it made his head swim. Kuna Mashiro’s constant presence wasn’t helping matters, either. She was oozing reiatsu whenever Shuuhei was around as if she knew the effect that had on him, as well as drool over Muguruma-taichou whenever she could.

 

Aside from the exhausting amount of reiatsu Shuuhei had to spend on simply being able to move alongside Muguruma-taichou and the Kuna girl, the Ninth’s captain made the soldiers do different tasks to train their senses, their fighting skills and anything.

He made the stronger veterans help the new recruits and even joined in from time to time, so even the more experienced fighters could learn new things.

Shuuhei was both proud of his men and women for they could keep up with their new Captain’s expectations and curious as to how the new training would help their division to improve even further. He could already feel his own reiatsu limits growing under the constant pressure, just as the amounts of reiatsu of their subordinates grew.

 

 

“Hey, fukutaichou-chan, what you’re spacing out on?” Mashiro had that unnerving ability of sneaking up on him when she decided to contain her reiatsu. Shuuhei had a suspicion she drowned him in her spiritual pressure every time just so she could sneak up on him.

 

Ignoring Mashiro’s taunts Shuuhei stepped around her, nearing Muguruma-taichou’s commando tent instead. He would suggest a particular road to take the next day – it would lead them out of Rukongai and into the landscape surrounding it; that way they’d have the possibility to go all out in their training and Shuuhei felt the urge to try himself against Mashiro, or even Muguruma-taichou? Kazeshini sure was all for it…

 

“What is it, Shuuhei?” Muguruma-taichou sat in the center of his tent, his haori lying next to him, his shihakusho standing wide open to reveal the broad expanse of his muscular, tattooed chest. Shuuhei fought hard not to drool like Mashiro did whenever she saw the man.

 

“I suggest we leave Rukongai tomorrow and head for the outer woods, Muguruma-taichou; I think it would be beneficial to have the men and women spar in honest.”

 

“That’s a great suggestion, Shuuhei, I’d never have thought of that! I don’t find my way around here without a satnav anymore.”

 

“A sat-what?”

 

“Never mind, Shuuhei, it’s a Living World thing. I’ll just have you being my satnav around here.”

 

Shuuhei still didn’t really get what it meant, but he was glad his superior would rely on him, anyway. It made him feel like he accomplished something – he wasn’t the teary kid from the past anymore. It was about time he proved how far he had come in the last one hundred years.

“It’ll be my pleasure, Muguruma-taichou.” And a pleasure it would be; even more so, should Kensei decide to keep showing off his body. Thinking the name ‘out loud’ made Shuuhei’s skin break into goosebumps, and he already knew what this night’s dreams would be made off.

An unhealthy amount of toned muscles, silvery hair and intent, brown eyes. And a prominent bulge tenting his underwear, hidden in his sleeping bag, hidden in his vice-captain’s tent, hidden in between all the other tents in their camp.

 

 

“Muguruma-taichou,” interrupted a voice from the outside. “Something happened to the tents.”

There sure was a lot of tenting going on right now, Shuuhei thought. “A small fire destroyed some of the men’s tents and now there aren’t enough to keep anyone housed for the coming nights of the patrol.”

 

Kensei rose from his seated place and stepped out of his own tent, Shuuhei following hot on his heels. They could see the smoke rising from the other side of the camp where a few Shinigami tried to salvage what was salvageable.

The officers hurried over and took in the damage. “How many supplies have been lost,” Shuuhei demanded to know and it was Mashiro who answered in a suspiciously carefree tone.

 

“Quite some tents were destroyed, but we still have enough left to keep everyone safe and sound when we squeeze some people together.”

 

“What a good idea, Mashiro, thank you!” Shuuhei grit his teeth hearing the approving tone in his captain’s voice. He totally missed the suspicious look the man shot his third seat, though.

“Alright, squads! Set up the remaining tents and then come back together at the fireplace. We’ll rearrange the sleeping arrangements then.”

 

 

It didn’t take all that long for the soldiers to set up their camp and soon all men and women were gathered around the fire in the middle of their camp. Shuuhei was proud of his division, they were skilled soldiers and knew their profession.

Muguruma-taichou strode along their rows and watched them with pride in his eyes. When he turned around, he raised his voice. “Men to the left side of the fire, women to the right; Hisagi-fukutaichou, you’ll stay with me.” Shuuhei did. “Mashiro, I believe you should be on the women’s side, right? Please step over there. Now.” Shuuhei did not see the irritated twitch Muguruma-taichou’s eyebrow did.

 

Grumbling accompanied Mashiro as she walked over to where the other women stood, her walk provocatively slow.

 

“Okay, squads,” the Ninth’s Captain started. “There are twenty-three tents left, including Mashiro’s and Hisagi-fukutaichou’s. One tent can house three people comfortably, so there should be enough space left for everybody. Each tent is to be housing either men OR women, I won’t stand for immoral actions on patrol. Please make sure the new recruits are staying with at least one veteran, so you’ll be able to profit from either the elder’s experience or the youth’s new ideas. Dismissed!”

 

Everyone immediately got to work, finding themselves new ‘tentmates’ and going to get their bedrolls. Everyone except for Kuna Mashiro and Hisagi Shuuhei. Both were staring at their captain, mouths agape.

“Where am I to sleep?!” both intoned. The higher seated officers were supplied with private quarters, even on patrol, so that they could replenish their energies in peace and quiet as well as to accommodate the tactical supplies they were to carry with them.

 

“Mashiro, you really should find yourself some girls to share the tent with, or you will have to sleep outside! You, on the other hand,” and he turned to Shuuhei, “I need you to get your stuff and take it into the Captain’s tent. Since you were the one to suggest we come where I don’t know my way around, I need you to inform me about everything you know about this area as well as your plans for tomorrow’s sparring matches. I’m sure you thought about something like this?”

 

He had to be kidding, right? At first he decides to give Shuuhei less than appropriate thoughts with showing off his body, then he wants him to share the limited space a tent, even a captain’s tent, can supply them with – Shuuhei wanted to scream.

“Hai.” he said instead and turned around to get his things out of his tent.

 

Now he’d have to hide the tent hidden in his underwear, hidden in his sleeping bag, hidden in a tent hidden in the wood – from his Captain (and the reason for the tented underwear in the first place!), who would be sleeping next to him.

“ _Smile, Shuuhei. You’re alive!_ ”

 

“SHUT UP, Kazeshini!”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Shuuhei wanted to die. Here and now, and preferably without a sound so his Captain wouldn’t wake up from the sound his death would cause.

He was lying next to Kensei in the stuffed space of the tent and he hadn’t slept in six days. It’d all begin with the built man preparing for bed – of course he had to sleep topless! Then the earthy scent emanating from the sleeping Visored would make his head swim and the sounds he made in his sleep set his groin on fire.

Sometimes he would snore lightly, his breath leaving his lungs with a slight rumble in the chest, sometimes he would sigh and smack his lips as he turned over in his sleep. And did he really have to _moan_ like that? The deep sound did _things_ to Shuuhei’s imagination, even worse things than the smacking lips did.

 

At least Shuuhei was in no condition to roll over too far – his omnipresent erection prevented that at least. It was painful whenever his ‘problem’ brushed against any kind of fabric, though. It made keeping quiet even more difficult, with all the sighs and moans of himself he needed to silence with every touch of any kind.

 

Hot breath fanned over his closed eyelids and the body heat of his superior washed over him, just as his nostrils noticed the overwhelming scent drowning him. Kensei (and still Shuuhei shuddered just thinking that name) had rolled over in his sleep, his upper body freed of the sleeping bag and now nearly lying on top of the petrified Shuuhei.

The vice-captain tried desperately to wriggle away from the heat and the scent and the walking wet dream itself, but all it did was to cause his angry erection to brush against the fabric of his underwear and make him bite his lips to stop the moan from rumbling out of his throat – in vain.

 

The shuttered sound left his mouth in a breath and hung heavily in the air of the tent like the foreboding shadow of a sword about to slash down on its victim. Shuuhei held his breath for any reaction from the other man, but nothing happened. At first.

Then a muscled arm snaked its way over Shuuhei’s sleeping bag and came to rest lying over his chest, the strong grip dragging the Shinigami closer to his sleeping Taichou. When the dragging stopped, Shuuhei lay flush against Kensei’s body, their body heat mingling, as well as their breath, and the younger man didn’t dare to even blink, afraid any movement would wake the other up.

 

His heart was pumping frantically in his chest, but when nothing else happened and the arm circling his upper body didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon, his heartbeat as well as his breathing calmed down again.

Lying there, held in Muguruma Kensei’s strong arm, his broad chest in his back and his breath tickling his ear proved to be the safest feeling Shuuhei had ever experienced. And soon he drifted off into much needed sleep, filled with images of silver hair, a tattooed chest and low moans and snores.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Sunlight trickled through the canopy of leaves shielding the camp from unwanted eyes, and enlightened the inside of Shuuhei’s sleeping quarters, making him waking up slowly. Over the past six days he’d grown accustomed to the earthy, rich scent of his superior filling the tent, as well as the warmth filling him from the inside and outside, but never before had both been so intensive.

The weight encircling his middle was new, as well. New, but welcome.

 

And suddenly Shuuhei’s mind came up with an explanation for the intensity of all the good things happening to his senses. He was lying pressed flush against Muguruma-taichou’s chest, and it was his arm keeping him in place in the cocoon of warmth and safety.

The vice-captain wanted this moment to never end.

 

Of course an end was inevitable, and it came in form of Kuna Mashiro (of all people). She ripped the entrance open and stood in between the flapping halves, her eyes taking in the situation. When her gaze fell upon the position the two men found themselves in, her eyes at first widened, then narrowed to slits.

Anger flashed in her gaze and the glare Mashiro threw at Shuuhei promised pain in the near future.

 

“Kensei, you old perv! Get up, it’s about time you let go of your boy toy and remember where you belong!”

 

Muguruma-taichou stirred and unconsciously tightened the hold he had on Shuuhei, dragging him even closer as if he was trying to hide behind the dark haired man. “Go away, Mashiro!”

 

“No, I won’t! You can’t send me away like that!” Hurt laced her words and anger spoke out of her voice. “Get your lazy ass moving and act according to your title, Muguruma-‘taichou’!”

 

“As your superior I order you to leave this tent immediately!” Muguruma’s voice was loud and massive in Shuuhei’s ear and he could feel little droplets of spit hitting his skin as the man’s speech grew angrier. “Third seat Kuna, make sure the men and women are awake and begin preparations for the day and after that prepare yourself for a sparring.”

 

 

The formerly warm and peaceful atmosphere was utterly disturbed by the screamed words and agitated reiatsu emanating from both Visored and Shuuhei shuddered, lying in between them and not exactly knowing what to do. When Mashiro left the tent in a huff, her feet stamping on the ground, he let go of the breath he’d been holding since Muguruma-taichou had started screaming.

 

“I’m sorry you had to witness this, Shuuhei,” the man behind him said into his ear and swiped the spit droplets away from his skin. “Sometimes she forgets her place, but she doesn’t mean anything by it.”

 

Shuuhei wouldn’t count on that, although he didn’t say anything. Not even about the fact that the other man still had to let go of him, or even stop the soft caresses of his face.

After a while he shifted in the warm embrace and made to get up – leaving the warmth, leaving the feeling of being cherished behind felt like being kicked where it _really_ hurt, but they had a division to run. And they weren’t meant to be like this, anyway, right?


	2. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shuuhei fights Mashiro, Yamamoto-soutaichou and a Hollow. In that order, but not at the same time.

Half an hour later the clearing next to the camp was filled with the clang of Zanpakutou meeting, muffled thuds of vicious kicks and blows being exchanged and the sound of exploding kido spells.

A sea of black and white met in a deadly dance while the Ninth division’s squads trained their skills in being Shinigami.

 

Suddenly that sea parted and three people strode through the gap; two men of nearly the same height and one small woman. It didn’t take any words for the crowd to form a wide circle around the three powerful Shinigami.

The Ninth division’s captain stood in between his lieutenant and his third seat, both of which looked rather agitated. Mashiro was surrounded by an air of hardly hidden anger while Shuuhei seemed to feel slightly out of place.

 

Muguruma-taichou stepped back to join the circle of Shinigami and left his officers in the center of the makeshift arena. It slowly dawned on Shuuhei what was supposed to happen now, and just in time.

 

Mashiro flew towards him, her fist raised and ready to punch the living daylight out of him. Thanks to years and years of training Shuuhei managed to dodge the fierce attack and bring some safety space between him and the raging woman.

Her face was warped into a grimace and her eyes spit fire and doom.

“What is it, kid? You afraid of me?”

 

“ _As if!_ ” Kazeshini screamed in Shuuhei’s head, but the words never made it over the lieutenant’s lips. Instead he analyzed Mashiro’s fighting stance, trying to remember if he had ever seen her fight.

He noticed she didn’t have her Zanpakutou with her and that seemed odd. What kind of Shinigami would leave their sword behind? That probably meant she was a master in hand-to-hand comba-

 

“Stop zoning out on me, ‘fukutaichou’!” Mashiro already charged again. “You can’t afford not to pay attention!”

The blow hit Shuuhei square in the chest and he found himself skidding through the dirt. Mashiro looked down on him, disdain in her eyes. “I told you not to zone out…”

With that she was gone, nowhere to be seen, and Shuuhei raised his reiatsu, preparing for an incoming blow from an unknown direction. He tried to sense his opponent’s reiatsu, that sickening mix of a Shinigami’s and a Hollow’s energy, but the multiplicity of different reiatsu from the gathered Shinigami as well as the blazing source of energy that was Muguruma Kensei made it hard to focus on one particular energy signature.

 

He sensed her only milliseconds before the screamed “Mashiro Kick” reached his ears and the devastating kick landed on his hastily raised arms. Mashiro looked thoroughly baffled by being blocked, but Shuuhei didn’t take the time to gloat about that.

Shunpo’ing away once again and examining the green haired woman circling him, he focused on her movement, on her eyes, how she had wrapped her reiatsu around her like a cocoon; both a defense and a means to strengthen her attacks. And he could finally feel her signature energy, even through the haze of the mingled reiatsu surrounding him.

 

Shuuhei smiled.

 

He knew better than to underestimate his opponent; despite having been betrayed by Tousen, he had learned some very valuable things of him, things like fearing the fight, but to overcome that fear to become a true warrior. And things like sensing your opponent without having to rely on the ‘usual’ senses.

Kazeshini cheered in his mind.

 

The next time Mashiro attacked, Shuuhei anticipated the blow. Instead of blocking the vicious hit aimed at his solar plexus, he charged himself, meeting his opponent mid-stride and landing several well placed blows against her kidneys without a problem. The impact of his attacks was noticeably lessened by the woman’s reiatsu strengthening her body, but he managed to take her by surprise.

 

The glare his counterattack gained him was dripping with venom and a cold voice, almost bubbling, cursed him. “Don’t think you’re anywhere near my level, kid-fukutaichou!”

And once again the Visored vanished from sight, but this time Shuuhei had no troubles following her movements with his senses. She appeared behind him, her fists drawn back to connect painfully with his stomach, and Shuuhei jumped back easily, the smile still playing over his lips.

 

“Seems you were right. I’m nowhere near your level, I’m way above you!” Those were Kazeshini’s words, but they seemed _fitting_.

The effect they had on Shuuhei’s fellow Shinigami, who had started to cheer for their fukutaichou earlier, was nothing compared to the effect they had on Mashiro.

 

The young woman looked stunned, paralyzed almost, her eyes wider than they usually were, and waves of pure anger rolled from her. Her gaze searched for Kensei and when she found him her eyes locked with the captain’s brown eyes. The Visored in the ring snarled, the threat clear in her whole stance, and Muguruma-taichou nodded once, but with an unspoken warning in his eyes.

 

The vicious glare that met Shuuhei now made him stop in his gloating – ice cold eyes bore into his skull, into his very soul and a white substance appeared on Mashiro’s skin. Only moments later an insect like face greeted him: huge black eyes, antennae-like tentacles and killing intent.

“What level were you on, Shinigami kid?” It was no longer Mashiro’s voice. It sounded bubbly and snarling, like a monster spewing threats from under water, and the words and their meaning made the hairs on Shuuhei’s neck raise.

 

The speed with which the next attack reached its goal was no longer from this world and Shuuhei lay on the ground once more, a painful grunt leaving him breathless. He could no longer feel Mashiro’s position, didn’t know from where to expect the attacks anymore and he felt lost.

 

This wasn’t the fear of fighting he had to overcome, this was the fear for his very life.

“ _Don’t be stupid, Shinigami! Use me! Let’s play!_ ” Kazeshini’s excited voice woke him up from his stupor and Shuuhei unsheathed his Zanpakutou. He wouldn’t waste his time; killing intent radiated from Mashiro and if she didn’t try to kill him, she’d at least try and destroy the respect the Ninth division’s men and women had for him, their fukutaichou. He wouldn’t have that.

And on top of that, and that wasn’t all that unimportant either, he wanted to impress Muguruma-taichou. Shuuhei wasn’t the puffy eyed, snotty, crying little child anymore; he didn’t need to be rescued anymore. He was the one doing the rescuing now.

 

Feeling the hilt of his Zanpakutou resting in his hand made Shuuhei feel strangely alive, as if he’d been half asleep the whole time while he had fought Mashiro with just his hands. The weight in his palm reminded him of what it meant to be a Shinigami, for what he had trained all those years.

Zanpakutou weren’t mere tools, weren’t mere blades to cut Hollows open. Wearing a Zanpakutou meant you shouldered the responsibilities that came with it – protecting the weak, fighting the evil, evening the odds and keeping the balance. And you did all that with your whole being, with your body and soul, with your abilities and your will, and it was the tip of Shuuhei’s will he now pointed at his opponent.

 

The surrounding Shinigami went eerily quiet, all eyes set on the unlikely pair.

Mashiro, cackling behind her Hollow mask and jumping in her spot, spewing threats and taunts and Shuuhei, who seemed so content and introverted, as if he were meditating, not giving a second thought about the situation he found himself in.

 

When the vice-captain opened his eyes, they were calm and spoke of courage and confidence. “I’ve overcome my fear, Kuna-san. I am prepared to fight you, and with the help of my Zanpakutou I won’t lose.”

 

“You tell yourself that,” Mashiro snarled before she charged. Her agility was unrivaled and her kicks rained down on Shuuhei, who had barely time to raise his katana to block the blows. Every impact pushed him back through the dirt, leaving two trails where his feet had slid over the dusty ground.

“You’ve overcome your fear, eh? Doesn’t look like it! You look like you’re almost shitting your pants, _fukutaichou_. You show off your muscles, you imitate Kensei’s tattoo, you look badass with those scars in your face, but in the end you’re nothing like him! No one is! You’re afraid of me, you fear me tearing you apart, and yet you shout big words. You’re pathetic!”

 

Kazeshini growled in his mind, but Shuuhei refused to let the girl get to him. She had a point, it wasn’t about the tattoo and looking badass, it was about what he was able to do, about his strength and his resolve.

But what did that mean for him?

 

There was no time to dwell on that, not with Mashiro’s attacks pushing him back into a corner; all he could do was blocking and dodging, and while he managed to prevent himself from being hit for the time being, this wasn’t what he had trained to be.

A cry ripped from his throat and finally Shuuhei began to attack. Whenever an opening presented itself, the Shinigami charged and tried to use it. He alternated between short stabs and wide slashes, but none of his attacks met their goal.

 

“What are you trying to accomplish with that, Shinigami? Is that all there is to you?”

Before Shuuhei could answer that, his opponent flash stepped into his space and a painful kick pushed him up in the air. Mashiro followed suit, another kick throwing him even higher and the air left his lungs. She was unrelenting, landing hit after hit until Shuuhei felt his consciousness slip from his grasp.

The Visored knew where to attack him and pummeled him into the ground, all the time crackling with laughter. “I can’t believe something like you could become vice-captain! The Ninth has reached a low I didn’t think possible since Kensei was banned.”

 

Shuuhei shuffled backwards, away from the madwoman and her snide remarks. He couldn’t believe the gap between her and himself, couldn’t believe how much stronger she had become since she had summoned her Hollow mask.

Maybe she was right, maybe she _was_ more suited to be the Ninth division’s fukutaichou – she was fast and powerful, she was skilled and so unbelievably _strong_ it was frightening.

 

“ _What are you thinking, Shinigami?! We are better than that! Release me, let’s show her what we’re made of!_ ” Shuuhei wasn’t sure about that. Where Kazeshini’s weight in his palm had floored him earlier, it now made him questioning the true strength they had, even together.

“ ** _This_** _is the fear you have to overcome, Shinigami. **This** is what Tousen taught you to fight to become a true warrior. Release me, Shuuhei!_ ”

 

Shuuhei wouldn’t lose here; he would show Muguruma-taichou what he was made of. He would prove his worth, would show everyone why he was the Ninth division’s vice-captain. His mind was made up, his resolve was back; now it was time to let actions do the talking.

“Reap, Kazeshini.”

 

It was the first time Shuuhei said these words since they had taken Tousen-sama’s life, and the amount of energy that flooded his system after releasing his Shikai was breathtaking. He had grown under the pressure of the Winter War, had grown under the pressure of Muguruma-taichou’s command and this patrol. He had grown to become someone Muguruma-taichou could rely on.

 

Kazeshini’s cheered in his head as Shuuhei let one of the double sickles spin on its chain in his hands.

“We’re alive,” Shuuhei grinned. “Be happy! Smile!”

 

 

The combined spiritual pressure pushing down on the clearing was impressive, making some of the younger Shinigami collapse onto the ground and even the more experienced fighters stepping back and crouching down. Solely Muguruma-taichou and the two fighters were still standing strong.

The Captain’s eyebrows rose on his forehead and a contemplative, yet impressed expression played over his features.

 

Even Mashiro couldn’t hide her surprise when Shuuhei was covered in a mint green glow, his reiatsu having skyrocketed with the release of his Zanpakutou.

The spinning blade cut through the air by his side, too fast to be seen by the normal eye, and suddenly it lunged toward her, the two bladed sickle cutting the skin of the Visored’s upper arm, making blood trickle from the gash.

 

While none of the fighters had held back earlier, it had taken until now before the first blood had been drawn, and it had been Shuuhei to do so. The masked woman took a step back in astonishment, only nearly dodging the second attack of the returning blade, being pulled back on its chain.

She had been taken by surprise, her stance betraying the shock still coursing through her for having been hit by an opponent she had underestimated considerably and that shock had rooted her to the spot for a moment.

 

“Now we’re talkin’, Shinigami!” she screamed and engaged Shuuhei in a fierce exchange of blows.

The fighters shunpo’ed square across the cleaning, hitting, kicking and slashing whenever an opportunity arose, and the ground was shaken by the impacts of bodies. It was obvious Mashiro had the upper hand, outrunning Shuuhei’s shunpo with the speed her Hollowfication provided her with, but the gap was noticeably smaller now.

 

 

Seconds trickled by, turning into minutes, then an hour, and still the fight didn’t seem to come to an end anytime soon. While Mashiro seemed to have her full power at hands, Shuuhei’s attacks slowed down and the exhaustion was easily visible in his stance. While his face still showed the resolve from the beginning, his footing had become more sluggish and he found himself blocking more than dodging.

 

His body was covered in bruises and small cuts and he gritted his teeth when yet another kick found its goal and catapulted him through the air. He hit a tree and all air was pushed from his lungs, leaving him breathless, with dots dancing in front of his eyes.

One of his double sickles had sunk into the tree trunk behind him, being stuck in the old, hard wood and he pulled on it, but it was in vain.

 

Mashiro saw his predicament and rushed towards him, prepared to deal the finishing blow to the Shinigami. While he hadn’t been able to beat her, he still had surprised her with his power.

“Thank you for the fight, Hisagi-fukutaichou,” she said, audible for everyone around, and Shuuhei looked her straight in the eyes when she charged.

Just a second before the oncoming feet met his rib cage the Shinigami shunpo’ed to his left, too fast even for Mashiro to stop her attack from hitting the tree his sickle had impaled. When the kick almost split the wooden structure, Shuuhei spun around and caught the woman in the chain connecting the two weapons of his Shikai, pushing her flush against the bark.

 

Mashiro was pinned against the tree, the chain making any move impossible, and one blade of Shuuhei’s Zanpakutou pressed against her unguarded throat.

“Thank you for the fight, Kuna-san,” the vice-captain finally said and sank back down to the earth, releasing the green haired woman from her constrained position. When his feet met the ground he sealed his sword and sheathed the katana again. He was done with fighting for the day, and the last thing he heard was his Zanpakutou’s voice in his head. “ _I’m impressed, Shuuhei. Maybe there really **is** a true warrior in you, hu?_

“Be alive, Kazeshini. Smile.”

Some lively person he was, Shuuhei thought, then blackness surrounded him and swallowed him whole.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

When Shuuhei came to, he pretended he didn’t. He was lying in the now familiar scent of Muguruma-taichou’s tent, and, judging by the orange-ish hue the almost blackness behind his eyelids showed, it was late afternoon.

 

“So, why did you hold back?” It was Muguruma-taichou’s voice, right there, sitting next to his sick bed.

 

“What makes you think I did, Kensei,” Mashiro asked, thankfully without the Hollow-ish bubbling to her voice.

 

“He’s still alive,” said man answered and at the same time dealt a devastating blow to Shuuhei’s male pride as a fighter without even knowing it.

 

“He’d still be alive, even if I’d gone all out on him,” the woman standing somewhere in the tent said almost grudgingly at that; Shuuhei didn’t know _where_ exactly she stood, but it wasn’t anywhere near the bed.

Strange enough, the ‘unconscious’ Shinigami felt the praise in her words, felt more acknowledged by the person who seemed to hate him rather than by the person he himself adored since over 100 years. It stung.

 

“So you noticed?” What was there to notice about him being unconscious Shuuhei didn’t know, but neither did Mashiro, it seemed, because she didn’t answer her captain.

“He’s strong and capable, Mashiro. Shuuhei is a good lieutenant, he earned his position.”

 

“As do I! I’m stronger than he is, I’m just as capable, and we’ve worked together for longer than he’s been alive! Why can’t I be your lieutenant and he can have the Third Seat!” Her pout was nearly tangible, her stuck out lip audible in her voice. “I deserve it, Kensei.”

 

“You really do believe that, don’t you, Mashiro?” The rustling sound of moving fabric reached Shuuhei’s ear, and the shifting of his mattress told him just how close exactly Muguruma-taichou was. His weight dipped the mattress Shuuhei was lying on (hardly softer than the ground beneath the mattress) and the supposedly unconscious Shinigami scooted closer to the comforting bulk of his captain’s body. Because the dip in the mattress made him slide that way, of course! Nothing intentional, honest!

 

“Of course I do! I’ve been a great fukutaichou to your taichou! I’ve been the greatest sidekick you could ever ask for!”

 

Shuuhei didn’t know what a sidekick was, but Kensei (cue: shudder of pleasure from thinking Muguruma-taichou’s name) seemed to know what she was getting at.

“I don’t need a sidekick, I need a partner.”

 

“You need to get laid! I’m good at that, too!”

 

“Mashiro, you’re overstepping boundaries!”

 

“I don’t care! He stepped between us, you let him do that!”

 

“Shuuhei’s a powerful ally, not your enemy. Why don’t you see that?” Muguruma-taichou sounded worn out all of a sudden.

 

“Everyone who wriggles his ass between us in an enemy at some point, Kensei. I won’t let him take you away from me!” There was fire in the woman’s voice, enough fire to make the grey haired man jump up from the mattress he had been sitting on.

 

“There’s no ass wriggling or anything! He’s your superior and you will treat him with all due respect, Mashiro!” Shuuhei couldn’t actually see the typical eyebrow twitch Muguruma-sama suffered from whenever he was around Mashiro, but he was fairly sure it was there by now.

 

Without another word the opening to the tent opened – Shuuhei knew because a late ray of sunshine pierced through the darkness of his eyelids – and Mashiro was gone.

 

 

“You might fool him, but never think you could fool me, Hisagi,” Mashiro said next to Shuuhei’s ear and he startled, an embarrassed blush playing over his face.

 

He forewent pretending to just have woken up and simply spoke. “Where is Muguruma-taichou gone?”

 

“Out, supervising the sparring matches,” – and away from you, Shuuhei thought but didn’t say a thing while Mashiro continued. “After what we pulled out there, they are working even harder now. You did a good job, Hisagi-kun.”

 

What was he supposed to think of that? First she tries to kill him, then she accuses him of manipulating her relationship with Kensei (while wriggling his ass, obviously) and now she tells him he did a good job? Talk about mixed signals…

 

“And I tell you this only one time: Keep your fingers off MY Kensei, understood?!”

Not so mixed anymore. But Shuuhei didn’t know how long he’d be able to actually keep his fingers from his captain. It was becoming harder every day – gods, _he_ was getting harder every day!

 

“Kuna-san, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” It wasn’t exactly a lie – Shuuhei wasn’t hitting on Muguruma! He was pining after him, yes, and he’d love to get his hands on the handsome man, but he wasn’t acting on his desires.

 

“Of course you don’t, Shinigami. I told you once, I won’t say it again. But never forget I didn’t use my Zanpakutou in our fight. You don’t stand a chance, little Fukutaichou. Not against me.”

Her face hovered threateningly over Shuuhei, her eyes spitting fire. Then the opening flapped again and Muguruma-taichou put his head through the opening.

 

“Mashiro, get out here an- oh, Shuuhei, you’re awake! Good!” And with that he was gone again.

 

“Mine!” Mashiro hissed again, then exited the tent after Muguruma-taichou.

 

Shuuhei opted to rise, too; there were a thousand things to do outside, and he wouldn’t let Mashiro take the lead in a race he hadn’t known they were having. Now that he knew, he’d fight. No matter the costs.

“This is a different kind of battle, Kazeshini,” he let his Zanpakutou know.

 

“ _You know, all is fair in love and war, warrior,_ ” Kazeshini answered cackling. “ _And this IS war!_ ”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

Despite Kazeshini’s words Shuuhei didn’t search out fights with Mashiro. Maybe he wasn’t too fond of her, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his work. Whenever they were with their division, they treated each other like comrades, fellow soldiers that respected each other.

And still their fight was the number one topic in the Ninth division – whenever the two officers were seen together, other members of the division would put their heads together and whisper animatedly, some even pointing with their fingers.

Shuuhei chuckled, as did Mashiro.

 

“Funny how they see us, right?” he asked one day, sitting in the court where the Ninth division held their training.

 

“Baka! They are seeing me!” Of course they were, with her standing next to him and supervising the training with hazel eyes and a bored expression on her face. “What else is there to see.”

 

“Whatever you say, Third Seat Kuna,” Shuuhei said as blasé as he could manage, not even bothering to emphasize the mention of her position in the ranks – _below_ him.

His jibe didn’t go unnoticed.

 

“Why you-!”

 

“Kuna-san, Hisagi-fukutaichou, the captain wants to see you in his office!” an unseated member of the division told them when she came to a halt in front of the two officers. “Now.”

 

“Thank you, Yui-san,” Shuuhei answered and couldn’t quite hide the amusement the repeated hint at his higher ranking had filled him with. “We’ll be on our way.”

Mashiro, on her part, already was on her way, having shunpo’ed towards the office building; but not without making sure her depart would leave Shuuhei sitting in a cloud of dust.

 

 

When Shuuhei reached the office, Mashiro was draped about Muguruma-taichou’s form, her petite body clinging to those muscle-bound upper arms and her legs lying across the man’s lap.

Muguruma-taichou looked startled and shoved Mashiro off him; not without difficulties.

“Shuuhei, good you’re here!”

 

“You called, he came – don’t pretend it would be some kind of achievement, perv-taichou!”

 

“Shut up, Mashiro!”

 

“But that’s how it is, baka! He behaves like a dog!” Mashiro pounded her tiny fists on the floor; despite their little size the impacts left dents in the ground.

 

“He behaves like a lieutenant!”

 

“I never behaved like that!” The woman jumped on her feet, now pointing at Shuuhei. “That’s not what I did when I was your lieutenant!”

 

While Mashiro’s words had grown louder and louder, Kensei was the epitome of cool when he spoke next. Only one word: “Exactly.”

 

All fight left the green haired Visored and she could only look at her superior in horror. “What did you say?”

 

“You know what I said, Mashiro, don’t make me spell it out for you.” Muguruma-taichou still spoke in a calm manner, his words clear.

 

“That’s not what you meant!” Mashiro looked as if she was about to throw another one of her infamous tantrums, her fire igniting one last time, but when she saw Kensei sitting in his chair, not having moved an inch despite her antics, she let go of that plan, quite visibly. “I see…” Her tiny fists hung at her sides, her head low and hiding her face behind her green hair. When she looked up, she didn’t spare Muguruma a glance. Instead she made her way to the door, just where Shuuhei stood, and came to a stop next to him, facing the dark wood of the door.

“You haven’t won yet, Shinigami. The Ninth may be yours, but Kensei isn’t!” Then she kicked the door open in a way that made it impossible to close it again, not after having been reduced to mere sawdust, and vanished through the opening.

 

“That was…” Shuuhei began, but the other man present interrupted him.

 

“Uncalled for. Please step in and close the… ehm, leave the door open. I want to speak to you about the rosters for the next month. I think we should change the formation of the groups, mix in some of the recruits like we did after the tent debacle on our field trip.”

 

And just like that Shuuhei shifted into work mode and forgot about the incident, instead stepping up to Muguruma-taichou’s desk and looking over the reports and rosters with him.

But as deep as he found himself immersed in his working mode, he still couldn’t keep himself from taking a deeeeep whiff of his superior’s aroma. He’d grown accustomed to it over the few days they had spent together in that tent, now he was addicted.

 

Standing next to the impressive man, being surrounded by his scent, his reiatsu, his _presence_ made it hard to concentrate. He fidgeted at the spot, didn’t finish sentences and all around seemed like a nervous wreck the longer he was exposed to Muguruma Kensei.

 

“Shuuhei, that display just then didn’t upset you, did it?”

 

“Wha-? No, it’s okay, Muguruma-taichou!” Did he sound out of breath? Shuuhei hoped he didn’t – being out of breath just because his imagination had made him live through some exhausting, yet deeply satisfying things would be embarrassing.

 

“I told you not to call me that, Shuuhei.”

 

“And I told you not to call me that, Muguruma-taichou.”

 

And just like that Shuuhei found himself in a headlock, a muscled arm pinning him against a broad, vibrating chest. Kensei’s laughter rumbled in his lungs and made Shuuhei wish he was somewhere more private. And alone.

Private was important because he had to hide something. And alone was important because it would take some stripping and then some jerking to get rid of what he had to hide. He blushed.

 

“Muguruma-taich-“ The last syllable was pressed out of his ribcage in a wheeze.

 

“Hm…?

 

“Muguruma-sam-“ And again Shuuhei didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Kensei, please!”

Kensei let go of him and laughed heartily, while Shuuhei worked on getting enough air into his lungs. The last seconds had been the best and the most torturous seconds he’d lived through – since he had spent the night in the other man’s arms, that is. Not that he could tell him that.

 

“What was it you wanted to say to me, Shuuhei?” Shuuhei didn’t know anymore, didn’t know a thing beside how good his captain smelled and how it had felt to have his muscles keep him safe against his chest.

 

“It wasn’t of any importance, Muguruma-tai… Kensei!” he corrected himself immediately, seeing his captain prepare for another attack. It wouldn’t have been the worst to be in that position again, but Shuuhei wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take without having his brain melt.

Then again, a quick peek at his neither regions told him the brains wasn’t his only problem.

“I need a break, though. Bathroom!” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he rushed through the oh so conveniently opened door and all but fled the room.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

“ _Why did you flee from him,_ ” Kazeshini inquired, his tone seemingly uninterested, and yet Shuuhei could feel his curiosity prickling in his subconscious. “ _He totally came onto you!_ ”

 

“No he didn’t!” Shuuhei said, unheard of the other Shinigami hanging out in the barrack’s hallways. They didn’t pay attention, anyway – it was well known Shuuhei had started to talk with his Zanpakutou quite frequently after the incident with that Muramasa guy back when the more powerful Zanpakutou spirits had haunted Seireitei.

 

“ _If there’s one thing you really excel in, it’s denial!_ ”, Kazeshini sighed in his head. “ _How long did it take you to understand you are gay for Kensei?_ ”

 

“Don’t call him that, it’s Muguruma-taichou!”

 

“ _He just gave you a boner so you would stop calling him that. Why not do him the favor?_ ”

 

“And while I’m at it I could start draping me across his lap like Mashiro did and seal his lips with mine, right?” Shuuhei wasn’t all that opposed to the idea, actually… Not that he’d act on it!

 

“ _I was about to say you could flirt with him, but judging by Tachikaze’s reaction your idea is better._ ”

 

“Tachikaze? What are you-“

 

“Hisagi-fukutaichou, meet me in your office.”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou!” Shuuhei had spoken the words without even registering them. That was, until Muguruma-taichou walked by, an unreadable mask on his face and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Do you think he heard what I just said?!” He opted to ask his Zanpakutou in his mind this time. Shuuhei was NOT looking forward to the upcoming talk they would have…

 

 

The door to the lieutenant’s office closed with an audible click, almost as loud as a gong in Shuuhei’s ears. Muguruma-taichou was standing with his back to the door, sifting through some papers on his fukutaichou’s desk.

“Muguruma-taichou…?”

 

“I think I told you not to call me that when we’re alone. We’re equals here, and I’m on your turf.” Nothing in the man’s voice betrayed his mood.

 

“But outside you-“

 

“There were people outside, Shuuhei. I can’t have them think we’re their buddies rather than their superiors!” Finally the Visored turned around and lay his eyes on Shuuhei.

Shuuhei felt the gaze on him, analyzing him, zeroing in on him, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. He couldn’t help the shudder that run through him, nor could he fight the excited goose bumps covering his upper arms and shoulders.

He liked the feeling of those golden orbs on him, and yet he didn’t know what to make of it.

 

“That’s why I call you Muguruma-taichou…”

 

“I know why you call me that in front of the others, Shuuhei, and I appreciate your professionalism, but when it’s just us, it’s-“

 

Shuuhei would probably be court-martialed for his disobedience one of these days, but he ignored it in favor of interrupting his direct superior. “It’s exactly the professionalism that made me vice-captain in the first place.”

Or at least that was what he had _wanted_ to say, instead he said: “When it’s just us it’s perfect.” And had that been Kazeshini whispering in his ear?

His Zanpakutou was almost pissing himself laughing in his head. “ _That was golden, warrior! I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself!_ ”

 

When reality decided to take pity on Shuuhei and his Kensei-muddled brain got all the input it needed, Shuuhei wanted to die. Right then and there, swallowed by earth or struck by lightning – he didn’t mind, as long as it happened right now.

And still he was standing in his office, unharmed, and Kensei’s eyes bore into his soul, now more than ever. “I’m sorry, Muguruma-taichou! I’ll go stab myself or something…”

 

“You’ll go nowhere, Shuuhei!” The thundering voice made him think lightning had finally mowed him down, but no such luck. Muguruma-taichou was standing next to him once again, getting there in the blink of an eye, and with him came his scent, his warmth, his _presence_.

Retching noises in the back of his mind made Shuuhei remember his Zanpakutou shared his thoughts, and it must be pretty bad for the perky sword spirit to be caught in a Shinigami’s head whose brain was filled with a schoolgirl-y crush on his savior from a hundred years ago.

 

“But I’m needed outside! Someone has to watch the retrains cruiting and the captain’s odoor needs a new fices…” Shuuhei felt like his head was filled with cotton, Muguruma-sama was that close. He didn’t care about anything anymore.

 

“You sure Mashiro didn’t leave any permanent damage in that fight?” Kensei sounded sincerely worried, and it made Shuuhei feel even warmer inside. He simply stood there, slightly rocking on his heels and taking in as much of Muguruma as he could. Would the other man mind him taking another whiff of him? Maybe bury his nose in his hair and-

“…- come with me.”

 

There was absolutely nothing Shuuhei wanted to do more than that! If only he had at least an iota of experience when it came to coming with others…

 

“…-mary, now!”

 

Who was Mary? He wasn’t sure he was willing to share Kensei. Scratch that, he was damn sure he did NOT want to share Kensei!

 

“Hisagi-fukutaichou! A-ten-hut!”

 

Saluting was as much a reflex as was breathing or blinking, so he straightened his stance and raised his hand to his head, eyes to the front and awaiting new orders.

“ _t’was about time you got out of it!_ ”, Kazeshini chastised and snorted. Shuuhei shook his head, freeing it from any residual confusion and dared a look at Muguruma-taichou.

 

The older man had taken a few steps back and leant heavily on his desk with one arm, the other holding his stomach while he was laughing hard enough to have tears run down his face.

“You’re golden, Shuuhei, you really are!” he hiccupped, sweeping at his eyes. “Whew, okay, so you’re not hurt, are you?”

 

Not physically, no, but Shuuhei was sure he wouldn’t be able to look Muguruma-taichou in the eyes again, ever. “I’m fine,” he grumbled.

 

“Naw, come on, don’t be like that! I was worried, but you’re okay! That’s good!” His laughter subsided and he stood upright once again, only small wheezes of suppressed laughing leaving his lips.

Shuuhei missed the sound immediately. Maybe it had been worth all the embarrassment, only to hear Kensei laugh so hard he almost toppled over.

If only he hadn’t been so much out of it and actually listened to the deep voice guffawing like they were best pals having a good time. And not actually superior and subordinate, with the former laughing at the latter. Shuuhei hated his life.

 

“Muguruma-taichou, I really should go supervise the training now. And I’ll see to it that your door will be fixed this afternoon.” Better to re-establish some of the distance that helped him keeping sane. “You’ll excuse me.”

After that he fled his own office, never faltering in his step. Distance. Distance was good, and it kept the dose of Kensei-fragrance on a tolerable level. If only Shuuhei weren’t so addicted to it!

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Shuuhei managed a total three hours away from his taichou before there was a meeting with all the captains and vice-captains. When he reached the giant hall, all of the lieutenants had gathered in a corner of the room, together with the three recently reinstated captains.

The rest of the captains had already taken their spots, waiting for Yamamoto-soutaichou to make an appearance.

 

“Shuuhei,” Rangiku stage whispered and waved him over. “What’s all this about?”

 

“How should I know,” he answered in an equally ‘silent’ whisper and stood next to Kira, greeting the group with a nod – all the while purposely ignoring Muguruma-taichou’s amused grin.

 

 

“Captains, vice-captains, take your places!” The old man’s voice boomed through the air, calling them to attention and all whispering died down immediately.

“You’re probably wondering why I had you come together like this in a time of recuperation and peace. Be aware: There is no such thing as peace in Soul Society! The war is over and we have to thank the selfless actions of one Kurosaki Ichigo for that.”

Approving whisper floated through the air, even Kuchiki Byakuya nodded his head in agreement. “But even so, we cannot forget about the duties that are the Gotei 13’s. And thirteen we are again, indeed. This meeting is a welcome to Otoribashi Rojuro-taichou, Hirako Shinji-taichou and Muguruma Kensei-taichou.”

 

The three mentioned men took a step forward and bowed, then fell back in line. “It’s an honor to fight for the Gotei 13 once again.” Otoribashi-taichou had said that, of course; neither Hirako-taichou nor Muguruma-taichou would say something like that.

 

“That is all, dismissed.” But before any of the assembled Shinigami could actually leave the meeting hall, Renji spoke up.

 

“And what about Ichigo?!”

 

 Yamamoto-soutaichou raised one of his impossibly long eyebrows and almost opened an eye at that disrespectfulness. “Kuchiki-taichou, I advise you to keep your lieutenant on a shorter leash.”

 

“That’s not necessary, since I was wondering about the very same thing. The substitute Shinigami sacrificed quite a lot to accomplish what no one of the Gotei 13 was capable of doing. I think it only fair to show our gratitude. I take it he has lost his Shinigami powers with the final release of his Zanpakuto Zangetsu?”

 

“You are right, he is in no possession of any spiritual power at the moment.” Yamamoto-soutaichou didn’t sound too concerned about the fact that, indeed, the man who had saved them all had lost his powers. While rescuing not only the Gotei 13, but the whole Soul Society.

 

“So wouldn’t you deem it our obligation to show our gratitude?“ The Kuchiki’s voice was calm and collected, the epitome of Seireitei’s nobility, and it seemed to grate the old man’s patience.

 

“I deem it our first and most important obligation to keep Soul Society safe of every possible threat, Kuchiki-taichou. And let’s not forget,” a quick glance was thrown in Kuchiki Rukia’s direction, “Kurosaki Ichigo wasn’t supposed to have any powers at all.”

 

“And yet here we are,” Kyouraku-taichou piped up in that nonchalant way of his. “Saved by exactly the same man who wasn’t supposed to have any powers at all, Yama-jii.”

Ukitake-taichou, standing across from him, nodded animatedly and was just about to speak when Renji beat him to it.

 

“I can’t believe y’all are about to toss him away like trash!”

 

“Nobody’s tossing him anywhere,” Rukia said and then all hell broke loose. Voices clamored, insults and demands were screamed and people gesticulated – it was pure chaos, and all Shuuhei could do was take a step back and wonder where everything had gone downhill.

Zaraki-taichou went on about how much of a great opponent Ichigo was, Kurotsuchi-taichou claimed he _needed_ to see the substitute’s bowels to see what exactly made him that strong, and the Hollowfication and everything, while Renji and Rukia tried to outscream each other. It was chaos.

 

“SILENCE!” Yamamoto-soutaichou’s reiatsu crushed down on the gathered division heads and brought silence. “I am ashamed of what I have to witness here! You are behaving like little children!”

 

“I wonder who the childish one here is,” Hirako-taichou almost whispered, but his voice carried through the silence like a scream.

 

“Do not make me rethink your rehabilitation, Hirako Shinji!” Then the old man addressed all the captains again. “I understand you would prefer a different handling of the situation with the former substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo?”

Most of the gathered captains and lieutenants nodded, and even those not nodding (like Soi-Fon-taichou; and Shuuhei had never liked her anyway) didn’t object.

“I see. Then so be it – the Twelfth division will have a look into the possibility of Shinigami daiko Kurosaki Ichigo regaining his powers. And now I want you gone! All of you, except Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Ukitake Jyuushiro and Kyouraku Shunsui. Dismissed!”

 

 

And finally the meeting was over and Shuuhei was just about to get away from his distracting captain again, when- “Shuuhei, in my off- wait, in _your_ office!”

 

“Yes, Muguruma-taichou.”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Fortunately, it wasn’t just the two of them in his office – all leading officers supporting Ichigo’s ‘recovery’ were gathered in the room and now standing around Shuuhei’s desk.

 

“So, what do you think of the old man’s plan, hu?” Hirako-taichou started.

 

“It’s about time someone said it,” Muguruma-taichou agreed nodding. “Ichigo has done more than could be expected, and no one even thanked him.”

 

“Don’t even bother – that moron can’t hear you anyway.” The words were exactly what Renji would say, but his eyes said something completely different. His whole stance betrayed a hurt none of them were supposed to see. And yet Rukia stepped up to him and hugged him, her tiny form clinging to the redhead’s lanky frame like she could make a difference. And obviously she could; Renji brought his arms around her and seemed to crumple in front of their eyes, a mere shadow of his loud self.

It hurt seeing that brash man shattered.

 

“That is why I feel we are obligated to do something about the current state,” Kuchiki-taichou stated before he left the gathering without another word on that matter. It seemed like he had said what was to be said, and soon the rest of the group left as well, leaving Shuuhei and Kensei on their own, once again.

Shuuhei started to sweat.

 

 

“What’s your opinion on that, Shuuhei? You were awfully quiet back there.”

 

“I… I think Abarai-fukutaichou is right, Muguruma-taichou. I don’t know Kurosaki all that well, but I know what he did for Soul Society. It’s a shame to leave him like that.”

 

“So you think Abarai was right to attack Yamamoto like that?”

 

“I think he had his reasons to do so.” This conversation was beginning to gain a rather awkward quality.

 

“Any idea of what those reasons might be?”

Of course he had an idea, a pretty good one, actually, but like hell would he blurt those out to Muguruma-taichou of all people. Instead he shifted a pile of sheets from one corner of his desk to another one and remained silent.

“Shuuhei? Your superior officer asked you a question.”

 

“I think it was you who told me we were equals when alone, right, _Kensei_?” Something akin to a pout played over the grey haired man’s features, but he didn’t say a thing. “That’s why I, as an equal, decline to answer this question. I’d rather get back to work; next week’s rosters need to be double checked, as well as the patrols on duty.”

 

And with that Muguruma-taichou was dismissed and he left the vice-captain’s office in a huff, mumbling about defying subordinates and what he’d do to them if only he were allowed. Shuuhei grinned at that, but quickly stopped in favor of blushing hotly.

Some of the punishments Shuuhei could come up with involved a lot of things Kensei would do, but none of them were even mentioned in the guidelines for punishments.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Punishment came in a rather unexpected form. Muguruma-taichou’s form, to be more precise.

“Shuuhei, Mashiro, I want you to patrol in Karakura. Mashiro, you know your way around town and Shuuhei, you need to learn about the modern world and its possibilities. Don’t take me wrong, I know you two don’t get along all that well, but I need you to get a grip on yourselves! This isn’t a suggestion, this is an order! You’ll head out tomorrow, your mission will take one week.”

 

Mashiro groaned openly, shooting a sidewards glance at Shuuhei. “Does it really have to be me?”

 

“If you’d rather I go I’ll need you to take care of things around here,” Muguruma-taichou answered in a suggestive way, clearly aiming at Mashiro’s obvious (and sadly misplaced) jealousy.

 

“It’s okay, I’ll take the dog for a walk,” the green haired woman grumbled eventually. Before she could turn away Kensei spoke up again.

 

“Your mission is not only to learn and teach about the Living World but to relieve the assigned Shinigami from his duties so he can have a few days off. I need you to free Karakura from any Hollow activity while you’re staying there, because you’ll be the only Shinigami stationed there for the duration of your mission. And with Ichigo out of the picture there’s only that Quincy kid and this Chad person left.”

 

Shuuhei and Mashiro both nodded, despite obviously feeling rather unamused at the prospect of spending a week with the other. “Hai, Muguruma-taichou!”

 

They both stepped out of the office, passing the (finally fixed) doors that led to the hallway.

“So, a mission together…” Shuuhei started, hoping to fix at least some of the problems between them.

 

“Yeah, a mission together. And I’m the one in charge, just so you know!” Mashiro made it sound threatening, but Shuuhei found himself agreeing to her words. She was the one with the knowledge of the modern days, so it was the smart thing to do to give her the authority for the time being. The fukutaichou told her as much.

“Wait, you’re okay with this?”

 

“Of course I am, Kuna-san. Even though this won’t affect the chain of commands here in Soul Society or in a battle situation out on the field, it’s only natural to have the one with more experience lead the mission.”

 

“I wouldn’t have thought about it that way…” Mashiro scratched her head, then tilted it to the side. “Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow at 0 700 at the Senkaimon.”

 

At his nod the woman turned around and left Shuuhei to prepare himself for their mission. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to spend a week in the Visored’s presence, but he could at least suspect the motives Muguruma-taichou pursued with sending them away together.

One part of him understood the reasoning behind that and appreciated the effort, but the bigger part couldn’t help but feel nervous. What would Mashiro be up to as soon as they were out of their captain’s reach?

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Not all that much, the next day revealed. The trip to the World of the Living was an uneventful one and they were greeted by a brown haired Shinigami Shuuhei didn’t know.

“Thank you for coming here,” the stranger said, bowing to them. “It’s been quiet the last few weeks; a few bigger threats but they all disappeared again within a short amount of time and the Quincy and his friend usually take care of the smaller ones. I’ll see you in a week then.” And with a salute he stepped through the Senkaimon, heading home.

 

“That should give us enough time to get you up to date with at least some of the things going on around here,” Mashiro said relieved and led the way to the southern part of the town.

 

 

“We should set some rules before we really start this,” the Visored let Shuuhei know once they reached a small apartment, just big enough to house two people. “What I told you on that patrol still stands and we won’t return to Soul Society as best buddies, but we have to get along for the time being.”

 

“So you’re talking about a truce?” Shuuhei watched the woman sifting through the cupboards, checking their supplies and where everything was kept. He hadn’t known there was such an organized side to her.

 

“Something like that. I said it yesterday, today I’ll say it again: I’m the one in charge. I’ll teach, you’ll learn, that’s it.”

 

“I agree. But, and that isn’t something that’s negotiable, in a military situation, I’m the one in command and you’ll do as ordered. Other than that I’ll follow your command.”

 

Mashiro visibly grit her teeth, though it wasn’t audible over the distance. In the end she nodded grimly and closed the cupboard door. When she turned around she already mentioned for Shuuhei to follow her out of the window. “Let’s give you the Grand Tour, then.”

 

 

All Shuuhei knew about the Living World nowadays could probably be told in under five minutes (most of them covering his knowledge about guitars and what he had learned from Chad), even less time would be needed to have him talk about Karakura town. He’d seen its copy, but that was it, so he took in whatever he could while Mashiro led him around.

 

While there were things that were a lot like they used to be in Soul Society (money to pay for things, markets, individual styles for everything, from clothes to music (even though those things were vastly different from what he knew from Soul Society)), there were even more things that differed in such a basic way that he had to rely on Mashiro in an amount he didn’t feel all that comfortable with.

 

 

 

“Tell me again, what does this machine do?” The machine in front of him did a lot of things, mostly blaring nerve-racking music and flashing with annoying lights, but it didn’t provide him with the food Mashiro had assured him was in there.

 

“It feeds you. You put the money in that tiny slit, then choose your dish and a few moments later you can indulge in the goodness that is convenience food.”

 

“Well, right now it’s not acting very convenient, is it?” Shuuhei slowly got irritated. He was hungry, Mashiro was laughing – and eating. That didn’t bode too well with him.

 

“Here, let me-“ The woman leant forwards, taking the change from Shuuhei’s hand and shoving it into the slit. “What was it you wanted?”

 

“The sausages.” His grumbling tone made her laugh even more and she typed in the appropriate number for the dish.

 

It had been six days since they had arrived in the Living World, their mission almost over and true to the Shinigami in charge’s words it had been a quiet week with no Hollow activity whatsoever. And, surprisingly enough, there hadn’t even been fights between the two Shinigami who were so little alike. None of them would probably call the other one a friend, but at least their truce was intact and they actually got along pretty well, aside from a snide remark every now and again.

 

A **DING** told them Shuuhei’s dinner was ready and he greedily took the dish out of the vending machine. The smell was mouth watering, the sausages’ skin shining appetizingly, and when he took a healthy bite of one of the two wieners it was one of the biggest disappointments Shuuhei had to deal with culinary-wise. “These are _awful_!” he exclaimed, betrayal heavy in his tone. Mashiro only laughed even louder after that, swiping tears from her eyes.

 

“I know, right?!”

 

“You couldn’t have told me before I built up my expectations?”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

 

Shuuhei tossed the affront to everything that tasted good into a nearby bin, all the while muttering about how they had a truce and how Mashiro had kicked it in the figurative balls with not telling him about his impending doom of Wiener sausages. “Payback’s a bitch, Mashiro, so consider yourself warned.”

 

The Visored didn’t seem too fazed by his threat, instead snatched his arm and dragged him along the road. “I’ll make it up to you, Shuuhei-kun, just you wait and see.”

Shuuhei followed willingly, momentarily stunned by the good natured way Mashiro acted around him. It was true, they had been ‘civil’ with each other over the last days, but the bantering, the easy mood between them and body contact that wasn’t kicking and hitting when they were sparring, that was new. New and a nice change to the usual tension between them.

 

Flash stepping over the roofs of Karakura town was a normal thing for the two to do, so it didn’t take all that long until they reached a crossroad where Mashiro stopped.

“See? There it is, the place with the best sea urchins you can find in all Karakura town!”

Sea urchins – figured… But before Shuuhei could tell Mashiro about his dislike of prickly seafood a scream tore through the earth, alarming all of his Shinigami senses at once.

“That’s a-“ He never got around to finish his sentence. An explosion nearby rocked the street they were standing in and shattered windows fell to the ground in glistening shards.

 

“Over there!” Mashiro shouted and flash stepped in the direction she had pointed in, reappearing on a building nearby. Shuuhei landed next to her not a second later, immediately scanning the surrounding area for the source of the powerful Hollow reiatsu they both could feel now.

 

“You see anything?”

 

“No! But it has to be somewhere close or we wouldn’t feel it this intense!”

 

And close it was!

The roof exploded around them, debris flying through the air like shrapnel and revealing a disturbing amount of… “Tentacles? Really?? And here I thought that was a thing only mangas had to deal with!” Mashiro groaned.

 

“Mangas?”

 

“Doesn’t matter now!” She had a point, Shuuhei thought, and managed to dodge the next attack of one of the tentacles just in time. The appendages were of a sickening, pinkish color, twenty or more of them winding in the night, all sprouting from a big hole in the roof top.

 

“Can you see the thing that grew these… things?” Shuuhei panted, all the while repelling slimy tentacles with his sword.

 

“It’s dark down there, I can’t see a thing!” Mashiro yelled back from up in the air where she herself was busy blocking vicious hits. “I can’t get a blow in, there’s just too many of them!”

 

“Keep it occupied, I’ll try something!” He trusted the woman to do as she was told and shunpo’ed some meters away, steadying his stand and aiming his outwards turned palm at the middle of where the tentacles sprout out of the roof. A blue-white rod of energy appeared in his stretched out palm and Shuuhei grabbed it, hurling it at the tentacle monster. With his shout of “Bakudo Nr. 62: Hyapporankan“ the rod multiplied and hundreds of those poles pinned the appendages to the roof, piercing through them and immobilizing them. A deafening scream reached the Shinigami’s ears from the room under the roof, telling of pain and rage and the promise of impending doom for whoever had dared to hurt the Hollow.

“So at least we know there actually IS a body to all the tentacles,” Mashiro panted next to him where she had emerged with a flash step. “Let’s see if we can hurt it some more.”

The woman threw herself at the twisting tentacles, hitting and kicking at everything that moved. Shuuhei’s binding spell worked wonders on the limbs and it was easy enough for both Shinigami to cut quite a few of the things from its body, leaving the tentacles flabby and the wounds bleeding.

“It’s too easy,” Shuuhei mumbled, just as he was about to cut through the last of the remaining feelers. As soon as the last one was cut from the Hollow’s body a visible shiver ran through the bleeding stumps and Mashiro sighed relieved.

 

“Well, that _was_ easy,” she grinned, swiping a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good idea with the kido, Shuu-“ But Shuuhei wasn’t listening. His eyes zeroed in on the twitching stumps at their feet; the stumps that were no longer bleeding. Instead it looked like…

 

“They are growing back!” Shuuhei screamed but it was too late. The regrown tentacles had tightened together and knocked Shuuhei over, only to expand again and cover Mashiro from head to toe, seemingly trying to suffocate her – or break her in half.

Her scream was cut off just as effectively as Shuuhei had cut the tentacles earlier, but the change in her reiatsu told him she wasn’t dead just yet. Quite the contrary in fact; her sickening mix of Shinigami and Hollow reiatsu saturated the air around them and never before had Shuuhei been this thankful for its presence.

He was a little less thankful for the mix of shredded Hollow limbs and blood that covered him after Mashiro had kicked her way out of her fleshy prison.

 

“So, these things grow back!”, Mashiro exclaimed in her bubbly Hollow voice behind her mask and stepped down on one of the new growing tentacles at her feet. “That’s so EEWWWW!”

 

“Let’s get some distance between us and those,” Shuuhei suggested, nodding at the winding worm like appendages, hacking away at everything that came into reach.

 

“But I’m no good with distances!” the Visored whined but followed nonetheless, stomping at both cut off and still attached tentacles on her way.

 

“Then cover my ass while _I_ do the distance stuff!” It was true Mashiro was not the most proficient when it came to far distance fighting; Shuuhei on the other hand… “Reap, Kazeshini.”

The Zanpakutou spirit had a field day in his head, yelling in delight and anticipation of a fight where even Mashiro’s Hollowfication was at a disadvantage. “ _That’ll teach her, Shuuhei!_ ”

 

This wasn’t the time to react to the Zanpakutou’s taunting words, so instead Shuuhei spun one of the kusarigama’s blades in a fast circle, taking aim at where the bouquet of pinkish tentacles grew from the roof. With a well practiced flick of his wrist he sent the blade flying, cutting through the tentacles that tried to get in the way. When the sickle reached its goal he tugged the chain back, making the weapon spin around the bunch of limbs and wrapping them together with its chain. A hard tug at the second sickle still in his hand put a strain on the chain connecting both parts of Kazeshini and with a cry Shuuhei hauled the Hollow’s body from where it hid.

All of the tentacles sprouted from one point, but – there was no origin. At least none the Shinigami could see.

 

“That’s just a bunch of stupid pink worms?” Mashiro observed unnecessarily, and Shuuhei shook his head.

 

“No, there has to be a body. This thing is heavy!” And that’s when more of the roof gave in and the hole grew by force with an invisible body being torn from the room underneath, as if to back Shuuhei’s theory up.

 

“So, where _is_ your body then?!” the green haired woman asked, but it was clear she knew they were dealing with an invisible body with visible tentacles. Not that it helped much, not without knowing what they were up against. “It’s there and yet it isn’t, it has super healing powers and too many limbs to be healthy. What else is new?”

 

“At least we know _where_ it is at any time, even though we don’t know _what_ it is.”

 

“We do? How do we do that, Shuuhei?”

 

“Those tentacles have to grow somewhere, right?”

 

Understanding shone in Mashiro’s eyes and she followed Shuuhei’s gaze to where the tentacles fought against the iron grip of Kazeshini’s chain. “Let’s see about that.” And with that she was gone again, disappeared with a flash step that brought her right to the center of the bound feelers. A vicious kick connected with an unseen obstacle and brought her off kilter, but instead of a victory cry her scream sounded pained.

 

“What is it, Mashiro?!” Shuuhei yelled down from where he stood, still keeping Kazeshini strained. He couldn’t see the Visored, she had disappeared in the tangle of limbs, and that made him nervous

 

“I… I think it’s a tongue or something!” she yelled back, her fists pounding on whatever kept her captive.

 

A tongue meant bad news; tongues were often attached to mouths, and a Hollow’s mouth was as bad as news could get in their situation. The lieutenant released his Shikai’s hold on the tentacles and instead swung the newly freed sickle at Mashiro. The razor sharp blade cut through the slick muscle of a tongue; a long, flexible tongue he could see by now, as well as the monster it belonged to.

 

“That’s a chameleon!” Shuuhei exclaimed, taken aback by the gruesome appearance of the Hollow. Two eyes that moved independently from each other, every eye surveying one enemy, a gigantic tongue of the same color as the tentacles hanging from a huge mouth. Said tentacles grew out of the Hollow’s back, winding and twisting and the only things that were visible the whole time.

And just like that the gigantic chameleon disappeared again, its colors melting into the background, with only the snaky tentacles revealing its position. Even the tongue was invisible once again, hidden in the Hollow’s mouth once again.

 

“This is bad,” Shuuhei said, trying to think of a strategy against the huge camouflage expert. Mashiro, having freed herself from the tongue’s hold, nodded next to him, eyes of the mask downcast.

 

“I hate this,” she said, sounding apologetic. “I really can’t do a thing, right? What help am I when I can’t hit it in the head because of those tentacles?”

 

Her disappointment was almost palpable, but Shuuhei couldn’t think about that right now. “How’s your kido?”

 

“Not worth mentioning,” she admitted begrudgingly, but then lit up at the same second. “But I’m not half bad with my Cero!” And before he could stop her Shuuhei learned about the ‘Mashiro Super Cero’ from a firsthand experience. The lime-green arc her leg made through the air expanded and soon reached the base of the tentacles, resulting in an angry howl, but nothing more. “Obviously not worth mentioning, either…”

 

“Mashiro, duck!” The Hollow had used their distraction to attack them, the tentacles several times longer than the ones they had fought earlier and of a gross green color, and all of them headed at Mashiro. The Visored tried to flash step away but one of the limbs had already clasped her leg and dragged her down, the other strengthened tentacles already entwining around her body. Her body that wasn’t moving anymore, mask gone and limbs lax.

 

“Poison,” Mashiro managed to say before her whole body slackened in the hold of the glowing tentacles. Shuuhei tore through the appendages, his blades cutting through rubber-like skin and a disturbing amount of blood, but it was too late; Mashiro didn’t move a muscle and only her labored breathing and panicked eyes told him she was still alive.

The Shinigami gathered the hollowfied Third Seat in his arms and shunpo’ed to a roof nearby, hoping to hide her there before the Hollow would notice their disappearance. “Stay here and don’t even think about moving!”

 

Mashiro laughed, a humorless sound torn from her heavily heaving chest, and she sent him away with a glare. “So that’s your payback then, eh? Making me suffer through poisoning for making you eat bad food?”

 

Shuuhei couldn’t help himself and laughed too before he turned back to face his opponent. His opponent that had vanished in the mere seconds he needed to get Mashiro into safety. “Shit!”

 

Not a hint about where the chameleon was hiding, no wiggling tentacles, no nothing except for the panicked screams waving up from the streets beneath him.

Fear crept into his heart, tried to squeeze the air out of him and rooted Shuuhei to the spot. But ironically enough, it was just what he needed. “ _There’s the fear you need to overcome, warrior!_ ” Kazeshini cheered in his mind and nearly brimmed with energy in his fist. One blade spun on its chain on its own, the flick of the wrist an automatism by now, the other sickle remained in Shuuhei’s hand, a calming reminder of the power in his soul.

 

Closing his eyes Shuuhei opened his other senses to his surroundings, the senses Tousen had honed all those years ago, and soon he had a map of the area around him laid out in his head. He could “see” Mashiro’s hiding place, knew where the roof where the Hollow had first appeared was located, he even remembered the restaurant where the sea urchins were sold.

And he knew where the Hollow was hidden. It’d choose a spot where it could remain hidden while it attacked with its tentacles, but it would need to be able to see them land some hits and that only left one place. “FUCK!”

 

He spun around just in time to see the tentacles creep around the ledge of the roof system behind him, the exact structure Shuuhei had laid Mashiro down to be kept safe. A war cry tore from his lips and he charged, the spinning sickle in his right wrist cutting through tentacles of varying colors.

His left arm blocked on auto pilot, keeping the appendages as far away from him or Mashiro as possible, but it was to no use. He needed both arms to keep the attacking Hollow at bay and had no means to move the stunned Visored to a safer place.

And the amount of attacking tentacles increased by the second, more and more limbs lashed down on them, the injuries Kazeshini dealt them covering both Shinigami in blood and slime.

 

When a fiery red tentacle breached Shuuhei’s defense and burning pain lanced through him he fell to his knees, heavily panting and covered in the enemy’s blood and his own sweat. “Can’t. Give. Up.”

“Shuuhei, it’s okay,” Mashiro whispered behind him, her voice completely lacking of accusation. “You did what you could.”

 

The resignation in her words made Shuuhei rear up again – he wouldn’t stand for them to be overpowered by a stupid, cross-eyed Hollow with an unhealthy amount of multi colored tentacles sprouting from its back. “Not yet!”

He leapt to his feet, now spinning both kusarigamas on their chains and cutting through gore and blood like those buzz saws Mashiro had shown him in the Living World.

His arms ached from the strain. His muscles screamed with pain. The skin on his palms was red and hot from spinning his weapons this fast. Severed tentacles formed growing piles next to the fighting Shinigami, twitching and _still moving towards Mashiro_! Shuuhei groaned in despair and tried to rotate his sickles even faster, but to no avail – some stray tentacles reached his legs, one of the now familiar red limbs burning through his hakama while a blue one froze his feet to the ground.

 

The Ninth’ fukutaichou soon found himself nearly unable to move, only his weapons still drawing deadly circles in the air, when a desperate cry drew his attention to his fellow Shinigami.

Mashiro was buried under heaps of snaking tentacles securing her to the ground beneath her and the huge mouth of the chameleon Hollow opened right above her, its tongue preparing to deal the finishing blow to the defenseless woman.

 

Mashiro screamed in horror, Shuuhei yelled in frustration and broke the hold the ice had on his feet and leapt at the girl, hiding her under his taller body and shielding her from the impending attack.


	3. Purge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shuuhei talks with Renji, Matsumoto and Kense. And... 'actions' follow. In that order, but not at the same time.

An attack that never came.

 

The victorious bellow piercing the air wasn’t one coming from the Hollow. Instead it sounded familiar in its ferocity and calming in its presence.

Hihio Zabimaru’s boned snake head tore through the Hollow’s tentacles, his great fangs piercing its head and pulling it away from the battered Shinigami. Renji soon followed the appearance of his furious Zanpakutou, freeing Shuuhei and Mashiro from their twitching burden and looking down on them with a confused look to his tattooed face.

 

“Hisagi-san, Mashiro, what’cha doin’ here?”

 

“What does it look like?” Mashiro wasn’t able to use her body, but her voice managed to get her irritation across just fine. She couldn’t completely ban the sound of gratitude from her voice, though.

 

“Okay, don’t tell me then. Care to at least tell me what I’m up against? ‘Cause it looks like Zabimaru is chewing an invisible chewing toy!”

 

“Chameleon Hollow, able to conceal both its reiatsu and its body, except for the tongue when it’s outside of the mouth and the tentacles growing on its back. Those tentacles have various abilities like burning, poisoning or freezing, amongst others.”

Later there was a time to ask questions, now Shuuhei needed to help Renji to fight against the Hollow. Or at least try; none of his extremities reacted to his will, he could only lie there and stay put.

 

“The green ones got you, eh?” Mashiro observed in an amused tone, lying just as motionless beneath him.

 

“Seems like it,” Shuuhei grit through his teeth, then, louder: “Abarai, I’m paralyzed and can’t help you in this fight. The tentacles are visible all of the time, so you’ll know where to strike. But the Hollow has super healing, so make sure you end it for good!”

 

Renji nodded at that, then took off after his snake blade. Vicious cries cut through the air, both from the fierce bone snake as well as from the Hollow, and Shuuhei was deeply annoyed because he couldn’t see a thing; his face was turned towards Mashiro and the ground, and thanks to the poison he couldn’t turn his head to observe the battle.

Mashiro, reading his mood right, laughed at his dark face and began to describe the little action she could see from beneath the fukutaichou, adding in a few jabs at Shuuhei and his Zanpakuto’s pride here and there.

The vicious cries from above them only cut off when a red beam of concentrated reiatsu cut the sky in half, a red glowing even Shuuhei could see.

When Renji returned he was covered in sweat and blood, just like Shuuhei was, but his grin spoke of victory. “That’s about that, so what are you doin’ here?”

 

Mashiro, who seemed to have regained her ability to move again, wriggled away from under Shuuhei and sat up against the wall behind her, holding her head up with her hands. “It’s a mission to show Hisagi-san the World of the Living, or that’s what Kensei called it last week. Now I think it’s some poor excuse for a bonding experience.” She smiled through the words.

 

“So, don’t you feel all bonded to me,” Shuuhei asked with a mocking hurt tone to his voice, still unable to even twitch, lying there on the ground.

 

“Don’t get me started on bondage, little fukutaichou-chan, or you’ll soon learn there’s other ways to paralyze overconfident lieutenants than poison!”

 

The Sixth Division’s lieutenant was the first one to laugh, soon accompanied by the other two Shinigami. When Shuuhei could move again, they headed to the apartment where they stayed, Renji in tow.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

“So, Renji, what brings _you_ here?” Mashiro asked after all of them had a shower and some food in front of them. “Last thing I heard you were on leave?”

 

“I… ehm.” Expectant silence ensued, desperately waiting for Renji to fill the void in the room.

 

“You..?” Mashiro bribed, nibbling on her toast while her big eyes rested on the redheaded life-saver.

 

“I was in the area?”

 

“Well, duh, but _why_ were you in the area? And without a gigai at that; it’s not like you can go shopping in your spiritual form or anything!”

 

It didn’t seem like Abarai would answer that question without further probing, so Shuuhei sank back in the cushions and fixed the man with a stern gaze. “Abarai, what are you doing in Karakura?”

 

“I’m on leave. Isn’t it my own business where to spend my free time?! And why bother with a gigai I can’t leave fast enough when a Hollow attacks?! It’s not like they’d work right now, anyway, not with the aftermath of the Fake Karakura plan still wearing off!” Renji flared up, his red mane billowing behind him and making him look even more enraged than he had been in his fight against the chameleon Hollow.

 

“And you just so happen to spend your free time in another dimension?” It wasn’t like Shuuhei didn’t have an idea about why Renji would switch dimensions to spend his leave, and he didn’t know how much he should pry into the other man, but at the same time he wanted him to know he wasn’t alone in this. “This isn’t about the dimension, is it? Not really…”

 

“No, not really…” Renji’s whispered words were almost lost in the humming sound of the city spilling in through the windows, his face hidden behind a curtain of rich red. They weren’t on the present Shinigami, though, both already guessing what brought Renji here.

 

“How is he,” Mashiro wanted to know from Renji. She didn’t need to say the name out loud, not with the tone her voice had gained. “How’s he coping?”

 

“What do you think, eh? What would _you_ do, Kuna-san? When you lost everything you are, everything you were meant to be?”

 

Mashiro didn’t even look at him, just examining her nails. “Been there, done that…” she answered in an indifferent tone, further agitating Renji.

 

“How would y’know? How could you possibly know what he’s gone through?!” The tall lieutenant couldn’t sit still any longer, started to twitch in his place, bristling and fidgeting. “You know jack shit about what he’s goin’ through!”

 

“You know, back in the day when you were just a little shit, I was a lieutenant of the Gotei 13 and the traitor Aizen Sosuke put a Hollow into me. Now tell me about not knowing about things!”

 

Had she really thought that would calm the enraged man down? If so Mashiro was in for a surprise. “All the more so! Nobody asked him if he wanted to have to put a fuckin’ sword through his heart to protect his family! Nobody asked him if _he_ wanted to have a Hollow crammed into him! And yet he did it all, did it so he could both protect his family AND us! I haven’t forgotten about how Ich rescued Rukia, defying the Gotei 13 and Yamamoto-soutaichou all by himself, haven’t forgotten about the Bounto and how Ich saved the day – again! You should’ve seen him protecting his family, his friends, sometimes even the fuckin’ Espada! How he protected everyone, no matter the cost…” As loud and furious as he had seemed in the beginning of his rant, as small and vulnerable the man seemed now. His stance was as small and insecure as his voice was, Renji was once again hiding behind his red mane. Even his hair looked limp and weak.

“You don’t know what he gave up for us. And what does Soul Society do? Toss him away like trash! Ich isn’t trash! He’s the most… the most… He lost everything! Friends? His _reason_? Nothin’s left!”

 

Shuuhei found himself next to Renji even before he had registered that he’d moved in the first place. The other man rested his head on Shuuhei’s shoulder, all tension gone from his body, leaving an empty shell behind.

Even Mashiro stayed quiet and understanding shone in her eyes when hers met Shuuhei’s. She didn’t look sorry for what she did, she only was sorry for the way it had to be done, but Renji didn’t need to know that.

 

“He can’t protect his family anymore, Shuuhei,” Renji croaked, broken. “He can’t fight anymore, he’s _fragile_!”

 

“But he isn’t weak,” Shuuhei felt safe to say.

 

“No, he’s not. Never has been, never will be.” Renji almost smiled at that, but the relief was short-lived. “ But he’s lonely. Chad an’ Ishida are out there fightin’ the small fry, and they don’t take him with’em. He’s a burden now, a responsibility. That’s eatin’ him alive!”

 

“You know they can’t take him with them when-“

 

“I know that!” A short flicker of the man’s spirit, but it burned out faster than it came. “But what’s left for him? Of him?”  Shuddering breaths mingled with the silent words of the redheaded lieutenant, soon turning into sobs none of the other two Shinigami had anticipated.

Shuuhei had known Ichigo meant a lot to the man sobbing into his shoulder, but he hadn’t expected it to have this effect on the energetic fukutaichou.

 

“He can’t see me, Shuuhei!” And finally Renji broke apart, sinking down onto the ground, all the while clinging to Shuuhei like he was his lifeline. “He can’t see me anymore. I’m there, right in front of him, and he stares right through me like I don’t matter to him. He can’t hear me, either. I’m telling him how important he is to me, to us, to Soul Society, and I’m just wasting my breath. He can’t even feel me when I’m here, and yet I’m here every. single. day. I need to see him, you know? Need to know he’s alive, isn’t doing something stupid. And they tossed him away!”

Tears were running freely now, down Renji’s cheeks and into the fabric of Shuuhei’s uniform.

“They toss him away like he isn’t the savior of Soul Society! I’m comin’ here every day and take care of the big Hollows, have to make sure he’s save. And I can’t even tell him I do. Can’t tell him how much I miss him. _Need_ him!”

 

The men stayed like that the rest of the night, Renji’s boneless form melting against Shuuhei, didn’t even budge when Mashiro stepped over to them to rest her hands on their shoulders, telling them it’d be alright in the end before she went to bed.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

They entered Seireitei through the Senkaimon the following day like nothing had happened at all. A report had been written over the course of breakfast, but Renji’s breakdown wasn’t to be talked about. Ever.

“Thank you, guys,” was all he said before he straightened his pose again and headed towards the Sixth Division.

 

“Gotei 13 has gained some impressive lieutenants since I was on active duty,” Mashiro smiled, her eyes following Renji’s impressive form before coming to rest on Shuuhei. “I haven’t forgotten what you did yesterday, you know?”

 

“He’s a friend of mine, everyone would’ve done it,” Shuuhei tried to downplay it. It wouldn’t do for her to think of him as a softhearted wimp, not when he needed to strengthen his position as a lieutenant – and in the ongoing fight over Kensei.

 

“Am I a friend of yours, too?” The question sounded innocent enough, but was laden with possible death traps.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe, probably. But you’re my subordinate, my comrade, you’re part of the Ninth – that’s almost a friend, sometimes it’s even more than that.”

 

“And that’s why you covered me, shielded me with your body when the Hollow was about to kill me.”

 

“And that’s why I covered you and shielded you with my body – what?!”

 

“I haven’t forgotten what you did yesterday, Hisagi-fukutaichou,” Mashiro repeated. “And I’m deeply grateful.” She disappeared into thin air after that, having flash stepped away and leaving a confused Shuuhei in her wake.

 

“People, really,” was all he could mutter before he went to see Muguruma-taichou and report.

 

 

Mashiro had reached their captain before Shuuhei, sitting on his desk and chatting away, rather _at_ him than _with_ him, but the grey haired man didn’t seem too fazed by it. Instead his eyes zeroed in on his vice-captain when he entered the office and closed the door behind him.

 

“I hear it you go around mowing unknown Hollows?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“That chameleon thing? Mashiro told me you went out of your way to give it a makeover with your Zanpakutou?”

 

“I went out of my way to do quite a few things,” Shuuhei grit out, spitting daggers at Mashiro from his eyes, both disappointed and betrayed by her obvious gossip.

 

“And all of them I’m very grateful for,” Kensei added to his lieutenant’s confusion, motioning him to stand in front of his desk. “I want your full report, Hisagi-fukutaichou.“

And the full report he would get; nothing more, nothing less.

 

After some intense minutes of relaying the last seven days – six quiet days of research and learning, one day of action and near death experiences – Shuuhei had said what had to be said. The retelling of their fight against the chameleon had sounded exaggerated and way more dangerous than it probably had been, even more so in hindsight, after Renji had beaten the thing within minutes.

 

“What about the part where you threw yourself at me, eh?” Mashiro barged in smugly. It made him want to bash her head in.

 

“And shortly before Abarai-fukutaichou distracted and ultimately killed the Hollow I threw myself at Mash- Kuna-san to cover her from an impending attack that would have probably killed her because she was unable to dodge it due to poisoning from the Hollow,” Shuuhei added to his report, teeth grinding in annoyance.

 

“Third Seat officer Kuna mentioned something about you being poisoned as well, is that true?”

 

“It is. I was poisoned at some point of the fight, in the last seconds I think. I was able to free myself from the freezing tentacles and hide Kuna-san under me before the poison had time to paralyze me for good.”

 

“Anything to add to that report, Mashiro?”

 

“Nope, he said it all,” the woman answered her captain and jumped up from where she sat on his desk. “And I have to tell you, he was amazing!”

That had both men stare at her in surprise. Where had that come from?!

“He’s very proficient with his sword, even with those extraordinary kusarigamas of his. He could give your Tachikaze a run for his money, that’s for sure! And even though you already know about his people skills, by now I’ve seen them firsthand and it figures the Ninth is devoted to him for a reason. You couldn’t wish for a better lieutenant, Kensei.”

 

After her little speech she turned towards the door, obviously on her way out. When she passed Shuuhei her step faltered and she leant over to him, standing on her toes to reach his ear. “I told you I’m grateful, very much so. You haven’t just saved my life, Shuuhei, you saved more than that. And I can appreciate that. He’s yours.”

And just like that she was gone, and it felt like a common occurrence for Shuuhei to stand where she just left, totally confused.

What had she meant? ‘He’s yours’… Who was? And why?

 

“Chrm chrm.” Kensei clearing his throat dragged Shuuhei back to reality. The grey haired man didn’t look much wiser than Shuuhei felt at the moment, and that thought was more comforting than it should have been.

“That’s Mashiro for you, dear ladies and gentlemen,” Kensei said into the silence before he dismissed Shuuhei as well. “Take the next three days off. Spend at least one of them in the healing wells at the Forth and don’t you dare show up here or in your office!”

 

Shuuhei ‘hai’ed’ and left the office, ignoring the yelled “I’ll hear about it!” from his taichou.

He felt the fight in his bones, as well as the last night spent kneeling on the ground of the apartment with Renji against him.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

When he reached the building his apartment was in he felt yet another thing, the subdued reiatsu of “Rangiku-san?”

 

“Shuuhei.” Just that, no teasing smirk, no wide smile, no inkling of her usual light mood.

 

Shuuhei was as beat as they came, but he wouldn’t turn down his friends just because of that and friends was what he and Matsumoto were by now. After all they’ve been through (and after Shuuhei had lived through his unhealthy obsession with her and her… ‘assets’) the young man considered the woman part of his ‘inner circle’ and it pained him to see her slumped against his apartment door, eyes hollow and dull.

 

“Come on in, Rangiku-san, I’ll fix us some tea.”

 

“Do you have sake to go with the tea?”

 

"Do you really want sake to go with the tea?”

 

“Actually yes, but I know I shouldn’t. Can we… Can we just pretend we had some?”

 

“We can do that,” Shuuhei conceded, leading the busty woman into his living room and seating her down on the western style leather couch he had gotten quite a few years ago. It was great to recline on and it complemented his choker – or so Momo had said. “I’ll be right back.”

 

 

When he returned to the living room, Rangiku was still sitting exactly how Shuuhei had left her – her eyes on an empty spot on the wall, still lifeless, still unmoving. He nudged her hand with a steaming tea cup, setting the tray down on the table in front of them.

“What brings you here, Rangiku-san,” he asked then, sinking into the seat right next to his visitor.

 

“How did you feel when you lost him, Shuuhei?” Her voice was as empty as her eyes had been, void of all emotion, but Matsumoto’s words were laden with meaning.

 

“Lost who?”

 

“The traitor. The Captain. The man you turned to in the Gotei 13.”

 

“I didn’t _lose_ him, Rangiku-san. I _killed_ him!”

 

“As did I.” Shuuhei had known Rangiku still had to come to terms with losing Gin, even after all the time he had been gone, being gone even before he had died. Yet he hadn’t known how much it really hurt her, how deep Rangiku’s feelings for the supposedly traitorous captain had been. “I killed him too, didn’t I?”

 

“No, you didn’t.” The words felt like ash on Shuuhei’s tongue, knowing what he himself had done when the situation had called for it, but he also knew Rangiku hadn’t done anything wrong. “There was nothing you could’ve done, nothing that would’ve saved him. It was Aizen who killed him. He used him from the beginning and we all know that. Don’t you ever think anything of this was your fault!”

Shuuhei had trouble keeping his voice calm as to not startle his fellow vice-captain. Matsumoto looked so fragile, so unlike her usual self, it was disheartening. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, dark circles under them and still they looked dead and unseeing, and all the while she was whispering.

“I should have killed him.”

 

“Why would you say that, Rangiku-san? What good would’ve come from you killing him? He’d killed you in the blink of an eye, he could’ve killed you, but he didn’t. That has to mean something!”

 

“He wouldn’t have left me without a thing to remember him by, that’s why I better had killed him. I wouldn’t have let him leave me without telling me where he went, that’s why. I…”

A lot of people seemed to go through some life altering crises around him lately, it seemed, and yet again Shuuhei found himself consoling one of his fellow fukutaichou. His arm came to rest around Rangiku’s shoulders and he pulled her against him, so that her head could rest on his shoulder. Immediately she buried her face against the crook of his neck where her tears ran down his neck and soaked his shihakusho.

 

“He didn’t leave you on purpose, Rangiku-san; he would’ve been an idiot to do such a thing. Ichimaru-taichou went with Aizen to save you, never forget that.”

 

“But he left me! He… he left me behind, didn’t tell me where he went. He never told me, just disappeared all the time. And now I have nothing left, he’s gone for good now.” Her sobbing stopped, only the tears didn’t stop their endless flow.

“I was there when he died, Shuuhei. I was there and still he didn’t stay and left me. He didn’t tell me where he was going, again. You know what was the last thing he said to me? I was ‘in the way’, nothing else. And then I had to see him die, torn to shreds. I loved him!”

Eventually her tears stopped as well and only her erratic breathing gave away her inner turmoil. Matsumoto was strong, strong and beautiful.

“What did you feel when you fought Tousen?”

 

“You mean when I killed him?” It hurt Shuuhei to think about it, but it hurt less with the knowledge of having done the right thing. The sting was still there, though. “I felt desperation. Desperation and sadness and fear. The creature I fought wasn’t Tousen-taichou anymore, not when it didn’t dodge my attack. Tousen-sama would’ve felt me coming, that monster didn’t. It was hard, one of the hardest things I had to do, but it was the right thing to do.”

 

Rangiku nodded, pressing her head closer to his shoulder with her hair tickling Shuuhei’s chin. “It was the right thing,” she echoed, waiting for him Shuuhei to continue.

 

“I learned a lot from Tousen-sama back in the days. Back when I was still a kid in a grown up’s body, a stupid recruit. I wanted to be like Ken-… Muguruma-taichou, but those first years in the Ninth? I learned a lot about what it meant to be a Shinigami, to be a warrior, to trust my senses and train them as well as my body. A lot about fear as well.”

 

“Today I went to see Momo, in the Twelfth. I didn’t go in. I wanted to, I was there, but when I saw the door to her room, I couldn’t. I was afraid. Now I’m here and I still don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

 

The sudden change of topic threw Shuuhei for a loop, but he managed to catch up in the blink of an eye, assuring Matsumoto. “You can come to me whenever you need to, Rangiku-san. More often, even!”

 

Matsumoto sniffled a tiny laugh. “So you didn’t go to see her either, Shuuhei?”

 

“I-“ he stopped mid-sentence, looking down on the mop of wavy blond hair on his shoulder. “How did you know?”

 

“The guy from the Twelfth was so happy someone was finally showing up to see her. He said only Hitsugaya-taichou came over from time to time, always standing in front of the closed door and grinding his teeth. I can see him doing that, and I always laughed at him for not having the guts to confront her, even back when Aizen killed the Central 46. And there I was, standing in front of her door, not moving an inch.” She shook her head, simply rolling it over Shuuhei’s shoulder and making her hair fall in her face. She tried to blow it out of the way, to no avail.

 

Shuuhei grinned at the stubborn strand and chuckled when Matsumoto got a mouth full of her hair and started sputtering. Her weight felt good against him, her head on his shoulder a comforting presence all of its own and not that many months ago he would’ve done quite a few things to have her trust him enough to lean on him like this, open. But now it wasn’t like that anymore, it was more than sexual desire he felt; despite her bosom touching his left arm lightly where her upper body rested against his, he didn’t feel the curling arousal simmering in his innards.

This fact made him laugh quietly and Rangiku, finally annoyed enough by her hair to move it out of the way with her hand, looked at him in surprise. “What’s so funny?”

 

“This is. We are. No, I am.”

 

“Great way to answer a question, Shuuhei.”

“I know, sorry. I just realized that, only a little while ago, having you sitting this close to me would have led to a completely different train of thought than I just had.”

 

“So, what were you thinking of, perv?” She smiled an actual smile, and the life that had returned back to her eyes some minutes ago shone with mischief.

 

“I’d rather have you not know,” Shuuhei joked evasive. Matsumoto’s eyes let him know he wouldn’t get off the hook that easily, though. “Okay, okay. I just thought how a few months ago, this would have felt different to me than it does now.”

 

“How’d you feel about this were it ‘Ken’ lying on your shoulder, Shuu-chan?”

 

Having her tease him in that light voice of hers was a comforting thought and still, Shuuhei thought, he could do with a topic change.

 

“I’d feel like I should have turned down the sake.”

 

“You know what I mean, Shuuuu!” the woman almost whined in his neck, her hot breath fanning over Shuuhei’s skin and doing nothing for his libido. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you almost calling him Kensei just now.”

 

“I won’t tell you a thing that happened between us, Rangiku-san! Everyone will know about it as soon as you’re through my door!”

 

“Oh, you don’t _need_ to tell me a thing anymore, Shuu-chan. I already heard enough about ‘what happened between you’!” How a woman’s moods could change from depressed to delighted in such a short time would always be a secret to Shuuhei, and even though he was relieved to see Rangiku back to her old self, the price his pride would have to pay would be enormous. He sighed.

“I knew it! I _knew_ it!” Glee filled Matsumoto’s voice and she squealed in delight, her earlier depression gone completely. Not forgotten, mind you, but maybe resolved.

 

The night ended with them opening a bottle of sake despite their earlier decision not to, and they both fell asleep in an unsorted heap on Shuuhei’s couch.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

The first person Shuuhei thought about when he woke up, even before he opened his eyes, was Kira-kun and how he hoped the blond lieutenant wouldn’t feel the need to cry against Shuuhei’s shoulder that night because, honestly, he’d had enough crying comrades for the next one or two decades. Even more so since crying fellow vice-captains seemed to come with some sort of aching, be it sore knees from uncomfortable positions or pounding heads from sake.

 

And sake was the first thing Shuuhei saw when he eventually opened his eyes. He groaned.

 

“ _Thank you, Shuu-chan, for the ‘tea’,_ ” a sticky note hanging from the bottle neck read. “ _Was summoned earlier, had to go. Don’t you think we’re done with the topic! So many questions to be answered, so little sake at your apartment… See you over at mine soon!_

_Rangiku_ ”

 

Shuuhei groaned again for good measure and got up on shaky legs. A glance at the clock told him he had been out past noon, and it was a good thing Kensei had insisted on him staying at home for a few days. That left him with nothing to do, though, and even training with the division was out of the question. Muguruma-taichou’s ‘I’ll hear about it’ still rang in his ears, painfully loud at that, thanks to his current state.

Maybe a visit to the healing wells wouldn’t be that bad an idea, considering the circumstances?

 

And sure enough, Shuuhei found himself on his way to the Fourth’ healing wells half an hour later, a change of clothes in his bag and sunglasses shielding his sensitive eyes from the stinging sunlight.

“Hisagi-san,” a too loud voice called and caused his head to restart its throbbing. “Hisagi-san, where are you heading?”

 

“ _See, Warrior, there’s the last of the fukutaichou triplets out for your guidance and shoulder to cry on!_ ” Kazeshini scoffed in Shuuhei’s mind, his laughter only adding to the pounding in his head.

 

“Kira-kun, hello,” he answered despite his Zanpakuto’s mocking warning. “I was just headed to the Fourth Division.” Maybe him mentioning his intention to go to the healers was enough to deter the droopy eyed Shinigami from accompanying him to his old division. When the other’s eyes scanned him worriedly, Shuuhei started to doubt his luck.

 

“Oh, you are? I heard you were hurt on your mission to the living world… Make sure to recover properly before you return to your duties, Hisagi-san!” Shuuhei’s shoulders sagged in relief and Kira seemed to take that as a sign of Shuuhei’s fatigue. “Go on, go on!” he insisted, motioning for the other man to continue on his way. “I’ll have Unohana-taichou know you’re on your way!”

And with that he turned away, already preparing a hell butterfly to send to the Fourth’s barracks.

Shuuhei didn’t wait for him to turn around again and shunpo’ed away as fast as his hangover allowed.

 

 

Which was pretty fast, all things considered, and he reached the Fourth Division even before Kira’s butterfly came flying in.

Shuuhei was greeted by Kotetsu Isane, who looked at him questioningly. Before the black insect in his company could deliver its message Shuuhei spoke up. “Muguruma-taichou sent me to take a bath in the healing wells to recover from my last mission.”

 

“Alright. Then please follow me,” the tall woman answered, looking at the butterfly askance.

 

“Please ignore the butterfly, Kotetsu-fukutaichou, it’s nothing.” Shuuhei followed her to where the locker rooms for the hot springs were.

 

“Enjoy your stay, Hisagi-fukutaichou, you picked a calm day. I hope you’ll recover soon.” With that she was gone, leaving Shuuhei on his own.

He laid his change of clothes into one of the offered lockers and stripped off his worn uniform, putting it into the bag he brought with him. When he was naked he gripped a towel and made his way to the shower rooms, where he rinsed himself of the dust and the sweat of the day before he entered the hot springs.

 

Since the war was over for quite a few weeks and there hadn’t been any major fights since then, the hot springs were quite and rarely frequented; there wasn’t anybody to witness Shuuhei’s moan of catharsis like relaxation when he stepped into the hot water until it sloshed around his calves.

 

“I should’ve done this sooner,” he groaned to the foggy mists surrounding him and shielding him from the outer world.

 

“That’s why I sent you here in the first place, you know?”

 

Shuuhei shrieked, in a completely masculine way of course, and sank into the well to his chin. “Kensei!”

 

“Finally you call me by my name, Shuuhei,” the dark voice of his taichou rumbled amusedly and made Shuuhei wonder if he could drown in the pond. With a little work put into it maybe…

 

“Ehrm, uhm, Muguruma-taichou, I didn’t see you there!” Shuuhei all but babbled, fighting against the blush creeping up on him. Judging by the way his captain’s eyes sparkled when he emerged from the concealing fogs, he lost that battle by a mile.

 

“Relax, Shuuhei, it’s not like we’re on duty!”

 

“Well, you are, aren’t you?” Kensei shook his head in the negative and Shuuhei was confused. “Then who’s taking care of the division?”

 

“That’s where our Third Seat comes in handy, Shuuhei. Mashiro has it all under control.”

 

“But she was injured in the fight as well! Doesn’t she need to recover?”

 

“With her thick skull? Hardly. Besides, her being a Visored helps with that, too, so she’s good to go. Now stop worrying, lie back and relax. This is supposed to be a place of healing and recovery. Not much recovery being done with you being all tense and anxious.” The grey haired man winked at Shuuhei and did just what he told Shuuhei to do – lean back against the rocks surrounding the spring and relax.

 

Unfortunately (for Shuuhei), that led to Kensei’s muscular chest being revealed to the unsuspecting eyes of the lieutenant, who found his gaze being locked on to the view. Milky water, saturated with healing minerals, trickled over the broad expanse of lightly tanned skin, playing over brown nipples and highlighting the tattooed 69 with sparkling drops reflecting the light around them.

Shuuhei swallowed around a thick lump in his throat and was painfully thankful for the bleary quality of the well, did it help to hide the effect Kensei had on him. It wouldn’t do for his taichou to see his lieutenant nude and with half an erection, with only his captain as company – and ultimately the reason for his state.

 

And what a company the other man was! Relaxing seemed to be an activity that needed quite a lot of silent groans and full out moans whenever Kensei moved his aching muscles. When he let his head sink back, highlighted by an easily audible pop in his neck, the man made a rumbling _purr_ that belonged in a bedroom rather than a hot spring.

Immediately Shuuhei wondered what sounds the other man would make in bed, how much rumbling would be included and how his own name sounded being breathed from these perfect lips.

 

“Kensei…” Shuuhei himself spoke under his breath, low enough not to be heard by his taichou, yet loud enough to whisper over the water surface. The syllables tasted perfect on his tongue, caressed lightly over his lips and left him with a pleasurable shiver all over his body, centering in between his legs.

His thighs were hot with flowing blood, trembling with excitement and rubbing against his erection in a sinful and completely uncalled way. And yet Shuuhei couldn’t stop at the sight of Kensei sinking lower on the bench, until his body was floating on the water surface; his toes broke through the water surface and wiggled in the cooler air.

Only a few centimeters more and the lieutenant would see his taichou’s…

 

That’s when it hit Shuuhei – Muguruma Kensei was in the hot springs with him. Naked as the day he was born, sharing the same time and space (and water) with him. Shuuhei felt like he could faint from the knowledge alone and only the shallowness of the pool at the edge saved him from an untimely death, drowned in the very same liquid that caressed Kensei’s body and enveloped him from head to toe, from stout thighs to strong arms, from the firm ass to the probably thick penis – and Shuuhei was done for.

 

Getting out of the water wasn’t an option, not with his own formerly half hard cock now completely hard and protruding proudly from his body center. But staying wasn’t necessarily the better choice, not with the way Kensei breathed deeply only a few feet away from him, grunting every now and again when the hot water seemed to have loosened yet another knot in his muscles.

And muscles he had, quite a few of them, and all were splayed out for Shuuhei to drool over, calling for his mouth to taste them, lick them, nibble on them, twice – it was torture!

 

“Hey, Shuuhei,” the other man addressed him suddenly and rooted him back to reality. A reality of humiliating hardness and unbearable closeness. “Already feel recovered?”

 

“Uhm, no, Muguruma-taichou,” Shuuhei stuttered, slowly making his way to where the pool was deeper and the water would hide the very obvious state of arousal he was in.

 

“Again with the formality, Shuuhei? You know what I had to do the last time I had to remind you of how to address me?”

 

Shuuhei did remember. In fact, the memories of being held against Kensei in a headlock, being pushed against his warm, warm skin and strong, strong muscles elicited a low moan from Shuuhei. A moan that could impossibly be misunderstood as one of relaxing muscles.

Kensei’s eyebrow shot up. “Shuuhei?”

 

“Uhm, eh, nothing, Kensei! Really! Just remembered what it did to me the last time you-… What YOU did to me the last time you-… I, I just remembered.”

 

“ _Smooth, Warrior,_ ” Kazeshini piped up. It didn’t matter that he’d left the katana with his clothes in the locker room, part of his sword’s spirit was always with him, if only to mock him in a mortifying situation like this one.

 

‘Shut up!’ Shuuhei thought inwardly, closing his eyes against the reality that was boner-inducing Muguruma Kensei. Totally a move he should have avoided, because the other man had crept up on the distressed vice-captain without him noticing.

 

“Shuuhei…” Kensei almost whispered into his ear, the sloshing noises of the water surrounding them making it impossible to hear any indication of the meaning the name had on the man’s lips. Was it worry? Mocking? Interest? Shuuhei didn’t know, and he wasn’t crazy enough to find out.

 

“I’m all better now, Mugu- Kensei-san, I’ll return to my apartment now!” he practically yelled before he almost fled from the hot spring, from the silver haired man and from temptation. He didn’t even waste a single thought on how he presented Kensei not only with his bare ass when he ran for the locker room, but with a thorough view of his erect penis when he climbed out of the pool, as well.

 

 

Not even the cold shower he exposed himself to in the Fourth’s shower room helped with his protruding problem. By the time Kensei reached the communal shower he found Shuuhei still hard, but as if adding insult to injury, the vice-captain’s teeth were chattering with cold by now.

At least his taichou wouldn’t be able to see Shuuhei’s erection from where he stood, the showering man had turned away from the door as soon as he had heard someone coming closer.

 

“Shuuhei, what’s wrong?” Kensei wanted to know, oblivious to how deeply the addressed wished to be somewhere else. Anywhere else, really.

 

“N-n-n-nothing, Muguruma-t-t-t-t-taichou,” Shuuhei stuttered from the freezing water.

 

“Nothin’, eh? You really expect me to believe you?”

 

Of course Shuuhei didn’t, but the other man didn’t need to know that. “I’m f-fine, taichou,” he insisted stubbornly, reducing his stuttering to a minimum. “I read about cold showers being good for the immune system.”

 

He didn’t have nearly enough time to be proud of how little he stuttered before Kensei spoke up. “It’s supposed to work against erections, too, and look how well that worked out for you!”

The muscular man approached his subordinate with his hands held up like in a pacifying gesture, trying to look as unthreateningly as possible while he shut the shower off.

The threat to Shuuhei wasn’t physical and he wasn’t afraid of his bodily wellbeing; but he wasn’t sure how much harm his dignity could take without finally succumbing to its wounds.

 

“Muguruma-taichou, I really don’t need you to see me like this,” Shuuhei said, the stuttering having stopped completely with the lack of ice water splattering down on him. The tension in the room as well as the mortification of having Kensei witnessing him in his state had at least worked wonders on his erection.

 

“Like what, Shuuhei? And please don’t call me Muguruma-taichou now, there isn’t any need for formality.”

 

“Formality is the only thing keeping me alive right now, Muguruma-taichou,” Shuuhei grit out. He rested his head against the tiled wall in front of him, shoulders sagging low and his whole composure speaking of exhaustion.

 

“It’s totally fine for a man to get aroused when you feel relaxed after a stressful situation,” Kensei tried to calm him down, but Shuuhei was past these things by now.

 

“It wasn’t the relaxation, Kensei.”

 

“Well, that’s fine, too! Men can’t fight their bodies, can’t always decide when their little comrades decide to show up, no big deal! The warm embrace of the water, the calming knowledge the place is safe, isolation from the outer world, all those things-“

 

“Did nothing to me before I knew I wasn’t alone!” Shuuhei had enough of this, enough of Kensei standing next to him, probably checking him for any signs of bodily harm. The man was too close, too naked, too _much_ for Shuuhei to take on right now, so he turned to his captain and finally opened his eyes again, staring Kensei down.

“Muguruma-taichou, requesting permission to leave for my apartment.”

 

“Request permitted,” Kensei answered like Shuuhei had kicked him in the shin, and took a step to the side, making room for Shuuhei to leave the room.

“Don’t think this is it, Shuuhei,” he warned when the dark haired man reached the door. “You aren’t just my lieutenant. I care about you.”

 

‘Way too much and yet not nearly enough, at the same time,’ Shuuhei thought bitterly when he fled the shower room, got dressed in record time and shunpo’ed back to his apartment.

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Was it too much to ask for a break?

 

Shuuhei couldn’t have been at home longer than an hour before someone knocked at his door.

“Hisagi-fukutaichou? You there?” At least the voice wasn’t familiar – that meant it wasn’t someone out to talk him through his embarrassing afternoon experience.

When he opened the door, he was met with an unfamiliar face, shoving a letter into his hands. “Matsumoto-fukutaichou asked me to give this to you. Excuse me.” And gone he was, leaving behind a confused Shuuhei and a perfumed letter.

 

‘ _Hey Shuu-chan_ ’ it read.

‘ _Miss me already?_

_Miss me no more –_

_come over and have the promised sake with some friends!_ ’

 

And that was it. Just a short note – and pretty much exactly what he had asked for: A break. He changed from his uniform into something more casual (and decidedly more comfortable) and headed over to Matsumoto’s in a pair of loose fitting cargos and a simple tee-shirt he had gotten in the living world.

He was on leave, he could dress the part!

 

 

When he arrived at the house, the party was already in full swing. Music was blearing from the speakers and Shinigami of all ranks milled around in the apartment, chatting and drinking.

When Rangiku spotted him she was at his side in an instant, thrusting a tiny cup of heated sake into his defenseless hand. “There you are, Shuu-chan! I’m so glad you could make it!”

 

“Did I have any say in the matter?”

 

“Nope, you didn’t,” she chirped. “I can still be happy you came, right? I still wanted to thank you for yesterday. I don’t know what drove me to you, but I’m glad it did. And now it’s my turn to help you out. I’m gonna give you a tip you’ll find helpful should you act on it. I missed my chance to tell the man I loved what I felt for him – several chances, really, and in the end it drove me to you yesterday. Not that it was a bad thing ending at your door, but the reason it came to it is… too sad to talk about tonight. Anyway, speak your mind, Shuu! Tell him what you feel, let him know before it’s too late!

And yet another tip, for free, from friend to friend. You should wear this more often – you’re looking positively edible! Rawr!”

And with that she was gone again, not even waiting for a response before welcoming the next guests and providing them with magically appearing sake cups as well – her hidden stash of alcohol must be never-ending.

 

 

In the meantime Shuuhei had started making his way to the other side of the room, greeting Shinigami from different divisions, even some instructor’s from the Shinigami Academy and soon joined his comrades from the Ninth who welcomed him with great excitement. The easy chitchat of his fellow Shinigami helped him get over his traumatic day and the cryptic tip he had gotten from Matsumoto (not that cryptic, really, but still strange as hell) and he fell into an easy conversation with them, telling them about his mission to the Living World, the new things he had learned and the Hollow he had fought alongside Mashiro.

 

“So, you’re finally getting along with Kuna-san, Hisagi-fukutaichou,” Umesada inquired, courage boosted by the booze flowing freely.

 

“I don’t know what gave you the idea I ever _not_ got along with Kuna-san,” Shuuhei answered lightly, knowing perfectly well their rivalry had been almost famous through all ranks of the Ninth Division; except for Kensei, probably.

 

“We saw your fight, fukutaichou. Your act might fool some people, but your fighting style tells the truth about how you feel.”

 

It was easy to forget Umesada had been a member of the Ninth Division for a very long time, had been a Shinigami even longer, and he knew his way around the battle field and therefore knew to read people and their skills. “We might have had some… _disagreements_ in the beginning,” Shuuhei conceded, “but rest assured that we could dispel all these disagreements.” Despite his words sounding official and serious, his tone of voice betrayed Shuuhei’s amusement. His people were his friends; he wouldn’t take offense by some easy bantering amongst comrades he had already fought alongside in the last war or would fight alongside in the next.

 

“Muguruma-taichou must be thrilled to see you two getting along, eh?” Umesada’s curiosity knew no limits. Never did, probably never would. “Let’s ask him right now! Muguruma-taichou, come over!”

 

And just like that Shuuhei’s amusement evaporated into thin air, dread taking its place.

“Would you look at that – the Ninth Division indulging in alcohol and gambling? I hope you all are well aware of your function as a role model for the new recruits and the students of the Academy!” Kensei’s voice was full of mirth at seeing his Division, well, _indulge_.

Shuuhei was done with indulging, though; first the… incident in the hot springs, then Kensei following him into the shower room despite the obviously escaping nature of Shuuhei’s retreat, never mind mentioning him sporting a hard-on through all of this, and here he was, standing next to him like nothing happened.

 

“Muguruma-taichou,” Shuuhei clipped, turning around and bowing to his captain. “I didn’t know you would attend this get-together. Had I known I’d have come in and undertaken the task of leading your division.”

 

Kensei’s smile was still going strong when he turned to the other members of his division and asked them to excuse him and his vice-captain; even his iron grip around Shuuhei’s upper arm looked innocent and light to the unknowing eye.

 

“What the hell is your problem, Shuuhei?! Is this still about earlier?” For a huge guy like himself, Kensei sure knew how to hiss lowly enough not to be heard about the music but still get his irritation across.

 

“It’s about appropriateness and how to lead a division of the Gotei 13.” The alcohol was strong in this one, and Shuuhei could practically see himself from the outside, standing up against his captain in his wounded pride. The image was pathetic.

 

“Appropriateness? That’s what you want, all of a sudden? What about how it would only be ‘appropriate’ to remove you from your rank because you’re messing with the chain of commands? How it would have been appropriate to reinstate Mashiro as my lieutenant like it was a hundred years ago? You weren’t all that big on appropriateness back then!”

 

Shuuhei looked at Kensei in horror. Was his captain about to demote him, possibly even removing him from the division completely?

“Don’t look at me like that, Shuuhei! I’m not sacking you, I’m trying to understand you!” The man sighed and ran his hand through his silvery strands. “I can’t think in this bedlam. Follow me!”

 

“I’m not sure that’s approp-“

 

“Finish this sentence, Shuuhei, and God help me I will **make** you follow me!”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

Kensei stomped ahead of his vice-captain, still seething with anger; his fist were tightly curled by his sides, as if to prevent him from grabbing the other man and squeeze him until he regained his senses. Actually, it was a rather amusing sight for Shuuhei’s tipsy mind and soon he had to fight back giggles that threatened to charge the tension between them even worse than it already was.

 

“What’s so funny?!” Muguruma finally caved, the snickering of the Shinigami following him too much to take for the angered man.

 

They had just reached the Ninth Division’s quarters, the captain’s quarters to be more precise, and the way had taken them way longer than was usually normal. Shuuhei knew why Kensei had led him through the outskirts of Seireitei for almost half an hour – by now the alcohol had worn off and all that was left was a tiny little amount of sake induced fog clouding his mind.

 

“Wasn’t that romantic,” Shuuhei finally said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I never took you for the night stroll type!”

 

“I never took you for a coward, either.” Muguruma’s words were spoken calmly, like he knew everything there was to know. Only he didn’t.

 

“A coward? Is self mortification a cowardly thing to do?”

 

“What is it you’re giving up that qualifies at mortification then, Shuuhei? Why don’t you talk to me, let others help you? You’re a riddle wrapped up in an enigma, and yet you manage to be one of the most proficient vice-captains of the Gotei 13. I just don’t know what to do to show you I’m worth your trust anymore!” Kensei’s eyes were searching for Shuuhei’s when he continued.

“When we ‘met’ in the Fourth, you told me you wanted to protect people because you saw someone amazing, someone who changed your life for the better. What changed in the meantime, Shuuhei?”

 

“Nothing changed!” Shuuhei answered resolutely, even before he could think about it. A grey eyebrow, raised in open disbelief, made him stop in his tracks and reconsider his answer, though. Maybe… “I changed. You changed. Everything changed, didn’t it?”

He collapsed next to the door leading into Kensei’s apartment, his back against the wall and slowly sinking down onto the ground. His face was hidden in his hands and he shook his head as if to disperse the situation crashing down on him.

 

A warm, calloused hand on his shoulder made him look up and stare straight into Kensei’s open face. “Come on, Shuuhei-fukutaichou, how is that appropriate, eh?”

 

Shuuhei chuckled despite himself and let his superior help him up from the ground and lead him into the captain’s quarters. It wasn’t the first time he was here, of course it wasn’t, but it was the first time it wasn’t an ‘official’ meeting. And just like that Shuuhei didn’t know how to act anymore, his thoughts still trying to process what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

 

The way Kensei looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blinds caused a whole bunch of thoughts that were anything but appropriate, though, and Shuuhei felt as stripped and naked as he had felt earlier that day, when the other male had seen him in the shower room.

 

“I’m not gonna eat you, Shuuhei, calm down!” The impressive man even took his katana off, depositing it on a shelf by the door, before he closed the distance between him and Shuuhei and led the paralyzed man into the living room.

It felt… surreal. Just moments ago Shuuhei had been willing to give Kensei a piece of his mind, let him know how stressed Shuuhei had become since he was exposed to Kensei on a daily basis, and now he couldn’t help but think about how much he actually _wanted_ to be eaten by his captain…

Talk about Hollowfication and mood swings...

 

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Shuuhei tried to get away, get his body to listen to him, but still his feet followed the grey haired man, coming to a halt in front of a comfortable looking couch. Strong hands pushed him down into the cushions, and all the while Kensei was talking to – well, _at_ – him about how he should stay and how they needed to get the tension solved before it affected their division.

 

“ _Tension solved, eh? I’m down with that!_ ” Shuuhei could take a lot, but having Kazeshini whispering things into his ear in the situation he’d found himself in wasn’t one of them.

“Would you please shut up?!” he hissed between gritted teeth, putting all of his irritation behind the words and his thoughts.

 

“Excuse me?” Kensei looked surprised, annoyed even, and anger entered his voice. “I’m takin’ a lot of the shit you fling at me, Shuuhei, but once there’s a point reached where I won’t take anythin’ from you anymore! I **am** your captain, and since you’re the one goin’ on about what’s appropriate and what’s not, I’m a little surprised at the tone you’re choosing with me.”

 

The ensuing silence was an awkward one and both men stared at each other, willing the other to take the next step, to react to what had been said. Unheard by Kensei Kazeshini was laughing his ass off in Shuuhei’s mind, probably slapping his thighs and having the time of his life.

“Iwasn’ttalkingtoyou,” Shuuhei rushed eventually, eyes downcast, hand rubbing his neck absently in a humiliated fashion. “Kazeshini’sbeinganass.”

 

“ _I heard that!_ ” – ‘I meant that!’

 

 Kensei just stared, mouth agape and eyes round in wonder. Then there was his belly shaking laugh again, loud, rumbling, freeing. And rich, oh so rich and soothing to Shuuhei’s frayed nerves.

He couldn’t help himself, Shuuhei joined in on the laughter, had to hold his stomach even, from laughing so hard. Tears rolled down his cheeks, spilling from squinted eyes and following the path along his scars until they circled his widely opened mouth.

Shuuhei laughed and laughed until he hiccupped and had to stifle his laughter; or at least he tried to, gulping desperately to catch some air, but whenever he thought he could regain some form of composure, Kensei burst out again right in front of him and Shuuhei was a lost cause once again.

 

Minutes were passing, minutes, months, years, it didn’t matter; all that mattered was Kensei literally rolling on the floor and Shuuhei fighting for breath. Eventually Muguruma managed to fight his way up from the rug, sinking heavily on the couch next to his lieutenant and still laughter was rocking his body, sending shivers through Shuuhei.

 

“I… I’m sorry I offended you, Muguruma-taichou,” the younger man finally hiccupped, apology heavy in his wheezing voice. And just like that he found himself caught between Kensei’s (impressive and smooth-hard) biceps and his upper body.

 

“What have I told you about calling me that in private?”

 

“Not-… Not to do it?”

 

“So?”

 

Shuuhei considered not answering that, just so he could stay where he was without raising any suspicions, but his inner obedient soldier surrendered even before Shuuhei could really appreciate the other man’s warmth, the pressure against the side of his face, and the words “I’m sorry, Kensei,” betrayed him by leaving his month.

 

Kensei chuckled and freed his vice-captain; he even patted his head. He. Patted. His. Head.

How was Shuuhei to prove his worth when his own captain didn’t take him for full?! “Don’t do that,” he snarled, not unlike his Zanpakuto would do.

 

“Do what?” Kensei asked, challenge glinting in his eyes. “Let you know you’re a good boy and do what you are supposed to do? Well, you are!”

 

Shuuhei’s reiatsu rose without his consent, but Kensei responding in kind made it impossible to back down now. “A dog? Really? You think you can put a leash on me, after all you’ve put me through?”

 

“What did I do to you, Shuuhei, eh? I did nothing you weren’t askin’ for, nothin’ you weren’t happy to do. Write reports, train the recruits, go to lieutenant meetings – it’s what you’re supposed to do!”

 

“Sending me on a mission with a member of my Division that clearly hates me? Catching me in a headlock? Making me sleep in your tent and almost _spooning_ me? Harassing me in a shower room?!” He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop the words even though he knew he wasn’t exactly being honest. And still Shuuhei felt excitement run through his veins, felt how he grew under the pressure and could hear Kazeshini cheering him on.

 

“I didn’t hear you complainin’, you know? You’re perfectly capable of speaking up, of letting others know what you think.” Oh, that tone again. That _tone_!

Shuuhei threw himself at Kensei even before he had knowingly decided he would do so. The impact was hard and pressed the air out of their lungs, making them tumble over the backrest of the couch and fall down onto the floor, resulting in another “Oouuufff!”.

 

Thankfully the apartment was on the more Spartan side, with only the most necessary furniture, arranged in a stylish and spacious way. More than enough room for two men to brawl, fists flying and connecting with trained muscles and hardened bodies, trying to grab onto sweat-slick skin and fabric, until it ended, just like that.

In the blink of an eye the aggression was gone, all movement ceased and Shuuhei sat on top of Kensei’s thighs, straddling the man and pinning him to the ground. His fists had closed around Kensei’s wrists, fixing them on the rug, his own legs caging the other man’s lower body.

 

From an outside view, their position might have looked more intimate than it actually was, but for Shuuhei it felt… numb. He felt numb and he didn’t know why. Out of all the emotions he could have felt, his body had chosen numb and Shuuhei felt betrayed by that.

All thoughts of appropriateness aside, this was what Shuuhei had wanted for so long, had _craved_ to a point where he’d had to remind himself to breathe properly in the presence of his taichou and now he felt nothing at all? Disappointing.

 

Until… until a gust of warm breath from Kensei’s lips washed over Shuuhei’s face and all numbness was gone. Sensations rushed through his veins, pulsed under his skin and just like that Shuuhei moaned. Gone was his paralysis, replaced by an unnaturally high awareness of Kensei beneath him, struggling against his inner thighs, Kensei rubbing something hard and huge against Shuuhei’s boner and he hadn’t even know he was hard before he erupted into his pants like some teen watching porn for the first time.

 

“ _Smile, Shuuhei. You’re alive._ ” Never before had he wanted to NOT be alive as much as he did in this moment.

 

“Shuuhei? You okay?”

 

Shuuhei was so _not okay_ he didn’t even know where to begin. Instead he lowered his head, trying to hide his face in the crook of Kensei’s neck, tempted to press both mouth and nose against the soft skin until he’d suffocate. The whiff of pure Kensei this action gained him made him rethink some of his choices, though.

Staying put on the other man, for example. Or engaging in an intimate gesture like pressing his face against the other’s throat. Insult, meet injury.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Kensei! This wasn’t… I didn’t… We shouldn’t… I’m going home.”

At least his erection had disappeared given the past incident, so his pants wouldn’t tent when he got to his feet and crawled into some dark, secluded corner to die.

 

“Shuuhei, what-?” Kensei seemed oblivious to the horror his fukutaichou just had lived through, still lying on the ground, still flushed (in excitement? From their brawl?), still aroused, if his bulge was any indication.

 

 Should Kensei really have missed Shuuhei’s embarrassment? Maybe there still was hope, still some dignity to be saved. If only Kensei missed the growing-

 

“What happened to your pants?”

 

\- wet spot between Shuuhei’s thighs. “Nothing, Kensei.” Play it smooth, play it cool.

 

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me, Shuuhei. Actually, it kinda looks like ‘something’. ‘Something’ we should talk about.” Was it necessary for him to look as excited as he did, as understanding and strangely proud? Really! Captains and their strange thinking!

 

“I’d really rather not, taichou. I’d rather go home and NOT talk. Take a shower, get into bed, never get out again.” It felt like a foolproof plan to Shuuhei, even more so since Kensei obviously wasn’t as oblivious as he’d hoped he’d be. He had a spare lieutenant, after all.

 

“Stay. Please.” For a guy who usually talked in capitals when talking to his subordinates (or Mashiro, especially), his voice sounded surprisingly weak and fragile now. Kensei looked up at Shuuhei, at his face rather than his spoiled crotch, and begged him to stay; with his words, with his voice, with his brown, brown eyes. “You can NOT talk here, you can shower here, you can have my bed (and never get out again) – just… Don’t go. And I promise I won’t follow you into the bathroom this time.”

 

Good bargain, all things considered. Shuuhei still felt shocked and deadly embarrassed, but Kensei asking him to stay, even though he knew what had happened just moments ago, made him feel surprisingly welcome. Like some part of him belonged here, despite the awkwardness and potential disaster. And maybe, just maybe, Shuuhei felt a little risky, now that the figurative cat was out of the bag. What was there to lose, now that everything had been set loose already?

 

After a moment Shuuhei nodded, all flight gone from his body, alongside with the fight. He took a step back, his eyes fixed on a point just above Kensei’s ear (everything to not look in his eyes; or at his bulge, possibly even more so) and spoke up. “I’ll stay. I. I will. And. Uhm, shower, yes. Do you have something to wear for me?”

 

o0O0o0O0o

 

 

It was the small victories, really. Thanks to them being nearly the same height, Shuuhei fit into Kensei’s comfortable jogging pants laid out for him, and with those having an elastic waistband, they didn’t even slide that much, coming to sit comfortably on his hipbones.

 

When he emerged from the bathroom and reentered the living room (the Room of Doom), he found Kensei in equally as casual clothing, relaxing on the couch. His eyes flew up to Shuuhei and he smiled sheepishly.

“Is there anything else you want from me? You have the pants, you rock the tattoo…”

Awkward silence, nice to have you back… “I didn’t mean it like that!” Kensei backpedaled, blushing slightly, despite his outgoing personality, and he sat up. “Please, have a seat and let’s do some not-talking, okay?”

 

Shuuhei was about to protest, but the other man silenced him with a frown and a wave from his hand. “Sit. Listen. You don’t want to talk? Then I’ll do the talking.” He couldn’t find it in himself to disobey his captain, so Shuuhei sat down on the far end of the couch and waited for the things to come. “Is it really that awful for you to be here with me?”

 

“That’s not it, Kensei!” ‘Wow, now that was a lot of not-talking, Shuuhei, really.’ “You saw what happened, right? Now tell me how that isn’t awful.”

 

“You must be the first man I ever met who calls an orgasm an awful thing, really. You’re quite something, Shuuhei!”

 

“It’s not the orgasm that was awful! It’s the situation! The circumstances! The EVERYTHING!”

 

“You’re more eloquent than that. Explain it to me, because I really can’t see what’s so bad!” There was curiosity in Kensei’s voice, sincere enough for Shuuhei to answer just as honest.

 

“Where to begin? It was… unexpected, for example. My first orgasm not experienced while being alone happened on the rug. In my pants. With my captain right there, under me, to see me come undone from rutting like a rabid dog. That’s not awful?”

 

“Your first orgasm while not being alone?” So many reasons and that was what Kensei had remembered? Figures…

 

“Yeah. So?”

 

“I didn’t know, Shuuhei! With your looks! I mean… I never would’ve taken you for the celibate type of guy.”

 

“It’s not a chosen fate, really…” Shuuhei hadn’t wanted to say that out loud.

 

“And how come, then?”

 

“I’m… I don’t know, I just never felt comfortable enough with someone to, you know?”

 

“But you do with me? You DID, just a few minutes ago! So why is it so uncomfortable now? Still afraid I’ll bite?” A dangerous glint ignited in Kensei’s eyes. “Or is it the opposite and you’re afraid _you_ ’ll be the one doing the biting?”

Kensei inched closer to Shuuhei, slowly. Predatory. Sure of the outcome. Shuuhei whimpered.

“Just like that, Shuuhei. It’s not that bad, now is it?” His huge hand lay on Shuuhei’s left knee, strong fingers splayed out over his thigh, his ring finger and his pinky playing with the soft fabric of his borrowed pants, dangerously close to his crotch. Close enough to cause the smallest of all twitches, almost invisible, and yet it was there. Recognizable in the hidden twitch of the dark blue fabric, audible in the stutter in Shuuhei’s breathing, and Kensei’s eyes lit up.

“Tell me to stop, Shuuhei.”

 

It wasn’t a dare, wasn’t an attempt at cornering him, it was Kensei showing Shuuhei that he was the one in charge; Shuuhei had the possibility to stop it at any time, he just needed to tell his taichou to stop making him lose his mind. And how ironic was that? Him, Shuuhei, telling his captain what to do!

 

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, sank back into the cushions and even pushed his hips closer to where Kensei’s scorching hot fingertips were. Kensei was right next to him in an instant, the last centimeters between them forgotten, replaced by the big man’s heat, his skin touching Shuuhei’s along their bare arms.

“I won’t, as long as you don’t tell me to,” he promised while his fingers whispered along the younger Shinigami’s inner thigh, destination clear.

 

And just when Kensei’s hand brushed against Shuuhei’s awakening arousal, the dark haired of the two freaked out. “I- I can’t! Stop!”

 

Immediately, Kensei stopped, moving back to the other side of the couch. “It’s okay, Shuuhei. I’m sorry, I was too fast.” He mumbled on, soothing words and syllables, putting in some ‘shhh’s for good measure, and Shuuhei calmed down with every passing second.

 

“Tehe… Sorry.” Really, this was all sorts of embarrassing, but his virgin nerves had gotten the better of him.

 

“No, it’s okay, really.” Kensei being as understanding as he was didn’t exactly help Shuuhei in his situation, he felt even more virginal at seeing the other man act so… _considerate_. It was maddening, and it was degrading in some warped kind of way.

‘Grow a pair, Shuuhei’, Shuuhei thought to himself, with Kazeshini adding “ _So Kensei can play with’em!_ ”, which made Shuuhei snort. ‘He might as well…’

 

Taking in a deeeeeeep breath (‘Calm down, man up!’), Shuuhei turned toward Kensei and fixed him with his eyes. “I’ve never done this before, and I’m still not sure a lieutenant should do this with a captain, much less with his own captain, but tonight I don’t care.”

Big words for a man like him, a man with his v-card intact and not even frayed at the corners, and yet Shuuhei was determined. Determined and a little afraid of what he was about to do.

He was about to lean forward and kiss his direct superior, his crush for a hundred years, the man of his (decidedly inappropriate) dreams, just when warm lips pressed against his even before he could prepare himself for his own act of forwardness.

 

Kensei’s lips were surprisingly pliant against his, soft where he had expected them to be chapped, dry where Shuuhei had always thought lips would be wet or at least damp from spit. But even more than all that, they felt perfect.

It was obvious Kensei was holding back, reigning in the want and the urgency that spoke so clearly from his body. His reiatsu was wanting, broadcasting his wish to get closer, feel more, turn the kiss more feral, and yet he didn’t; didn’t even try to deepen the innocent peck, because that’s what this ‘kiss’ was, really.

 

So Shuuhei did, because, well, what was there to lose? He opened his lips just a bit in wordless invitation and shy permission all at once, and yet he gasped when he felt Kensei’s tongue slipping through the frame of his lips, licking sweetly against his teeth. Shuuhei was lost from that point on, his jaw opened wider, his teeth giving way to the intrusive appendage, and soon their tongues danced inside of his mouth.

Frantic rubbing alternated with slow caresses, while Kensei’s tongue mapped out Shuuhei’s mouth, stroked the gums, glided over teeth. And even though their mouths were the only thing touching, Shuuhei was harder than he had been when his premature climax into his pants had started the whole thing.

 

“What are you doing to me,” he said against Kensei’s lips, never breaking contact.

 

“What you’re letting me do,” came the answer, breathed heavy with restraint. “Whatever you’re letting me do.”

 

And was that ever an invitation! Shy hands cautiously moved towards Kensei, came to rest on his shoulders, moved around his neck until Shuuhei brought his hands together behind Kensei’s head and pulled him in for a kiss unknown in its intensity, unrivaled in its ferocity. The groan rumbling through both their chests, shared in between their tangling tongues and mingled breaths, was testament to that.

 

Shuuhei found himself pressed up against Kensei’s chest, both their bodies awkwardly twisted to get closer to the other, everything to feel _more_ of each other.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” Kensei suggested in one of the (few) breaks to catch their breath. “More comfortable there.”

 

Ice ran down Shuuhei’s back, making him tense all over again. Bedroom. As in _bed_ room. Was he ready for that? Would he ever be?

 

“Sshhhhh! Shuuhei, listen to me! It’s not important, really. Nothing has to happen!” The words penetrated Shuuhei’s walls of sudden horror (now, wasn’t that an interesting thought?), tearing them down with the way they sounded so sincere, and he could breathe again. Nodding, he motioned Kensei to take the lead. He still felt rather awkward with the way his erection – was it normal to get aroused by kissing alone? – tented his borrowed pants and he didn’t even dare think about the mess he was already leaking into the fabric. The second time that night. So he’d rather follow than lead the way.

 

But the way Kensei stood up from the couch, his own arousal more than obvious in the way it strained against the woolen prison it was stuck in, and took his hand to drag him along got him rid from the last remains of awkwardness. Shuuhei felt save with Kensei, ever had since the day the older man had rescued his life all those years ago, so when he rose from the cushions he didn’t even try to hide the effect the other had on him.

“Shall we,” Kensei smiled and tugged at his hand, their fingers intertwining just like that, like they were meant to be. And it felt right that way. And Kazeshini groaned in his mind, sounding suspiciously like “ _Why am I the one Zanpakuto that’s stuck with a pre-teen girl!?_ ”.

Shuuhei couldn’t find it in himself to care about that, even less so when Kensei opened the door to his bedroom and they were met with the view of a huge bed, tucked away into a corner and still dominating the whole room with its presence and what it stood for right now.

 

Kensei let go of Shuuhei’s hand and sank down onto the mattress, scooting back until his back almost met the wall and the rest of the bed was invitingly open for Shuuhei to lie down next to him.

Shuuhei understood the gesture for what it was. He was still in charge, could stop what they were doing at any point, but was the one to start it, too, and with Kensei being sprawled on the bed, doing nothing to hide his arousal, and with Shuuhei himself feeling his erection brushing against his pants – _Kensei_ ’s pants – he didn’t know if there was any point to stop at.

 

Navigating through the foreign room was easy enough, the drawn blinds letting in the light of the lanterns outside of the building, bathing the room in a dark golden light. Slow, carefully measured steps took him towards his goal, reduced the space between man and mattress, until his knees bumped against the bed. Kensei was looking up at him, not blinking once, and his eyes lured him in, made him bend over and put both hands on top of the comforter.

Shuuhei crawled over the soft surface and suddenly felt like the predator, no longer the prey to be chased, but the beast to chase. And Kensei was worth the effort, even though his escape capabilities left a lot to be desired.

Desire…

 

Not now, though, not when Shuuhei pressed against the broad man’s side and their breaths mingled in a heated kiss once again. Kensei’s arm wormed under his upper body and pulled him closer, half on top of the older man and kept him there, with his hand splayed over his lower back.

The heat of the captain surrounded Shuuhei, saturated him, his reiatsu calming him down and enveloping him just like the water in the hot springs had. Thinking about the healing wells made Shuuhei wish back for the nudity, for the knowledge they both were naked, and now he would welcome that feeling.

 

Breaking free from Kensei’s hold was easier than expected; Kensei made true of his word, let Shuuhei be in charge, so he had no problems with rising to his knees and stripping off his shirt. Kensei stayed put, taking in Shuuhei’s muscular, yet lean frame, every square centimeter of taut skin and muscles revealed to his approving gaze.

It wasn’t until Shuuhei threw the shirt in some corner that Kensei moved, lifting his upper body just enough to get rid of his own shirt and letting it disappear into the darkness, not caring for where it landed. It took him less than five seconds, never to break eye contact, and Shuuhei appreciated that, took it as acknowledgement of what he did.

 

A silent nod from the other male urged him to continue what he had begun, so he did. Pushing the soft material of Kensei’s jogging pants down Shuuhei’s thighs was as easy as it could get, the elastic waistband sinking down his smooth skin with a silent whisper; only getting his rock hard erection to comply was a little more complicated and Shuuhei fought to get the pants down with as little struggle as possible.

The resounding SMACK when the fight was already over cut through the atmosphere like Bankai through a Hollow mask. The awkwardness was back, the knowledge of how little Shuuhei actually _knew_ about what he was doing rushed back into him and he fell back on his haunches, borrowed trousers stuck somewhere in between ‘being gone’ and ‘still in place’.

 

Shuuhei scooted back on the mattress until he reached the end of the bed and clumsily got to his feet. He just stood there, the pants now deciding to surrender to gravity and dropping to pool around Shuuhei’s feet.

His hand flew to his mouth, disbelief clearly written over his features, and he stepped out of the heap of useless fabric around his ankles. He made it over to the golden lit window where he came to a halt. Shuuhei’s fists were gripping the windowsill hard while his lungs fought to gasp for breath, but everything inside him had cramped, an ice cold grip squeezing his chest tight.

 

He couldn’t see, couldn’t even breathe and all that he could think was how stupid he’d been, how awkward everything was, how much he wanted to be anywhere else and how much he couldn’t breathe. He needed to breathe!

 

“Shuuhei,” a calm voice from behind him said, breaking through the haze and the horror like a ray of light. “Shuuhei, can you hear me?” Shuuhei jerked a nod, his knuckles still white from how hard he was gripping the windowsill, his chest still clenched tight and unbreathing.

“I’m gonna come over to you now, is that okay?” Another nod. “Can I touch you, Shuuhei?” A head shook in the negative. No hands on him. “Okay, I won’t. I can do that for you, Shuuhei, but you have to do something for me too, alright?” It took some time, some thinking, and thinking became increasingly difficult, but in the end Shuuhei jerked a nod; Muguruma-taichou was his superior, he could do something for the man. “That’s my boy! Okay, I want you to breathe with me, Shuuhei. You can do that, can’t you? Listen to me, listen to my breath.” But hearing was so hard! Listening to the low inhales and exhales was so hard through the blood rushing in his ears! He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear Kensei anymore and Shuuhei was alone once more, lonely and lost in suffocating darkness, cold. And he couldn’t breathe!

Suddenly there was heat in the cold, a palpable light in the darkness and it pressed up against his back. Against his back which was shuddering with the need to get oxygen into his system, only, his chest wouldn’t allow it.

But now his whole back was covered in warmth, the soothing fire spreading over his skin, and when a warm weight sank down onto Shuuhei’s shoulder, he could feel Kensei’s mouth move against the shell of his ear. Foreign breath ghosted over his sideburns, warm, damp air whispering over the sensitive skin, ruffling his hair, and now he noticed the beat, the way the warmth against his back pulsed in time with the air against his ear and in a world shattering breath Shuuhei inhaled, his body relaxing, letting go of the panicked tension and he sank back against the strong chest behind him.

 

“There you are, Shuuhei. Shhh! It’s okay, I’m here for you!”

 

Shuuhei wasn’t too sure about really being ‘there’, but at least he was able to breathe again, he could see and he could feel, and that was more than he had hoped for just seconds ago.

Kensei soothed the last remnants of Shuuhei’s panic attack, his overwhelming presence like a gulp of air to a drowning man, so Shuuhei pressed closer to the man, molding his form against the chiseled muscles of his savior.

 

“You have to stop rescuing me, Kensei, or I’ll never get rid of that crush.”

 

“Then don’t.”

 

“Don’t what?”

 

“Get rid of that crush.” A few seconds of silence, a comfortable one this time, in which Shuuhei lowered his head to hide his blush, and then Kensei repeated something he had said earlier that night, had told Shuuhei to do several times. “Tell me to stop.”

And before Shuuhei could ask _what_ he was supposed to stop, Kensei’s arms encircled his upper body, pressing him close against his chest, encircling him in warmth. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

 

“I- I don’t want you to,” Shuuhei whispered breathless, but breathless in a good way. “I think.”

 

“Thank you,” the other man answered sincerely and threw Shuuhei for a loop. Was he supposed to reply to that? And what was he to say? ‘You’re welcome’?!

Words were lost on him when the hands on his body moved, one to caress his throat, his neck and his face (which happened to feel surprisingly pleasant), the other one whispering over his abs, circling his navel. The heat spreading from those hands enveloped his whole body, it shot through his veins, through his whole being, and Shuuhei imagined he could feel their breathing, their heartbeat synchronize.

 

BoBOOM – BoBOOM – BoBOOM – stuttering inhale – BOBOOM BOBOOM BOBOOM – stuttering exhale – they were one in heart and lung, with Shuuhei’s stuttering being the only thing distinguishing them. Kensei was calm behind him, soothing excited nerves, serving to excite those nerves in a completely new, completely pleasurable way, and soon enough Shuuhei’s blood stream changed direction slightly, bringing back the erection his panic attack had dispelled.

 

“Is… Is this okay, Shuuhei? Can I touch you? There?” Shuuhei was the damsel in distress and yet Kensei sounded shy, almost afraid of the answer. He got an affirmative nonetheless, a feather light ‘Yeah’ giving permission, and when a talented, calloused hand closed loosely around Shuuhei’s erection, the answer couldn’t have been any clearer.

 

“KENSEI!”

 

Kensei was all around him, holding him, caging him in while at the same time giving him any freedom he could long for. His right hand was leisurely stroking Shuuhei’s erection, his left hand entwining their fingers on the windowsill; Shuuhei could feel Kensei’s trapped length pressing against his backside, glowing hot through his underwear and his trousers – he’d never gotten around to step out of them, and now Kensei didn’t even care about that, obviously. It was enough to press against Shuuhei’s naked ass, pressing his shaft between muscular cheeks and sinfully rubbing there while his hand made Shuuhei come undone.

This was different from what they had done earlier on the living room floor; what _he_ had done to Kensei earlier. It felt different. Better. This wasn't rough fabric against his erection, wasn't mindless rutting in the heat of the moment. This was Kensei being right there, being there for him, _making_ _him_ feel all these things. It was too much and not enough all at once, and a thousand things more.

 

“Shuuhei, you are so good,” Kensei said against his ear, playfully nibbling at the earlobe, tonguing  the shell, all the while making love to Shuuhei’s member with his hand. “You feel so good against me. You feel so good in my hand.”

 

While the physical aspect of the situation was definitely worth being acknowledged – Kensei fisting his length in a way that spoke of both experience and passion felt like nothing Shuuhei had ever felt before – it was his words, the voice he said them in, the way his left hand held Shuuhei’s hand, that made it all the more intense.

 

Shuuhei felt torn apart, didn’t know whether to buck his hips into the tight embrace of Kensei’s fingers or to press back against where he felt Kensei’s own erection, trapped behind layers of fabric and still scorching hot in between his cheeks.

 

Liquid fire ran through Shuuhei, making goosebumps rise all over his body, his knees buckled, a strong arm snuck around him, held him upright, pressed him against a chiseled chest, while sweet nothings spilled from Kensei’s lips. He never stopped praising Shuuhei, always told him how good he was, how good he did and how glad Kensei was that he got to see Shuuhei like this.

And none of it felt awkward to Shuuhei, he didn’t feel belittled by Kensei’s words.

 

Quite the contrary. In the end it was a combination of Kensei rutting against his behind, Kensei’s right hand squeezing tight and stroking along his shaft in an expertly way, his left holding him against his body and, most of all, Kensei whispering “You are so good, my Shuuhei,” into his ear that made him come undone, completely renouncing all restraints.

 

An aborted cry tore from Shuuhei’s lips. Lips that hadn’t uttered a single syllable earlier were now opened wide in a surprised yell, stopped even before it could really begin, ending in a disbelieving gasp when his legs finally gave in beneath him.

His weight was caught by Kensei’s arm around his chest, his release splattered against the wall beneath the window they were still standing in front of and the last waves of semen were sluggishly trickling down Shuuhei’s shaft and spoiling the fingers still closed around him.

 

The next thing Shuuhei felt was Kensei picking him up bridal style and carrying him over to the bed where he sat him down cautiously, like he was something absolutely precious, stained lower abdomen and all.

The broad man sank down next to him immediately, not caring about the mess covering part of his hand or that he was still wearing his trousers and underwear, or that he was still very much aroused.

Just when Shuuhei was about to say something Kensei brought a finger to his own lips and motioned him to stay quiet. The action had another effect; when he removed his hand, a small drop of Shuuhei’s seed remained on Kensei’s lips, just like that.

Shuuhei wanted to laugh, could feel the relieved, the relaxed laugh building up inside him, when Kensei _licked his semen from his lips_. Knowingly. Provocatively.

 

Shuuhei groaned deep in his chest, rumbling, wild, wanting, and rolled on top of Kensei to devour him whole. He was once again straddling his taichou’s hips, but this time with intent, and he didn’t lose any time before he pressed his own hips against the straining erection in between Kensei’s thighs.

 

“You don’t have to, Shuuhei,” Kensei objected, but was quickly silenced by Shuuhei’s actions. It wasn’t that he had to, he wanted to, and his kiss seemed to get the point across.

Oh, how much he wanted to! But the events of the day crushed down on Shuuhei, made his head spin and his actions falter – just now he realized something. He was no longer the Nun of the Ninth, was he? Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t be any longer after tonight.

 

The only question being: What was he supposed to do?

**Author's Note:**

> Some words about this: How so many things in life, this didn't go as originally planned.  
> "Let's write something short for that picture I just saw, because I love the pic and I want to write and I can do it in a few hours, just a few words to praise the art." Yeah. No.  
> 36k words later, it's gotten a little more than a few words. And a little more than a few hours. And I loved every single moment I wrote on this and I'm really sure this won't be the "real" end. It's just I'm gone for the next month, so updates are more than unlikely, but I wanted to get my baby out! :3
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> I said there would be a link to the picture that had me know where I wanted this whole thing to go the whole time. I knew I had to include this scene, have it mean something, just like the pic means something to me; it really touches me somewhere deep inside and I fell in love with it when I first saw it by coincidence. Or was it fate? Whatever it was, have a look at it!
> 
> http://www.y-gallery.net/view/732687/ (You need an account on y!Gal to see it.)
> 
> I know there's neither Shuu nor Kensei in this picture, but the light, the atmosphere, their pose, how they stand next to each other, WITH each other... Yeah, it got to me. xD
> 
> Aside from exitonly, who doesn't really know me but who I owe this fic to, at least to a point ^^, I need to thank Kazuma85. She was the first one to get to read this, the one to help me out with the Bleach-verse details (she's the (sexy) geek, I'm the (gawky) noob, really) and everything else, somehow, and, well, she told me what would work, kept me writing when I felt like deleting it. Thank you, Kazu! :*
> 
>  
> 
> Sooo, please let ME know what you think of the Nunth (yeah, that's how I call this story in my head ^^) and let exitonly know what you think of the picture. Thanks for reading! :)


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